<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023</id><updated>2012-01-08T23:05:12.858-05:00</updated><category term='dark'/><category term='Mark Schwartz'/><category term='addiction'/><category term='dad'/><category term='mood'/><category term='boundaries'/><category term='tools'/><category term='You Raise Me Up'/><category term='live'/><category term='ballet'/><category term='wedding'/><category term='Dissociative identity disorder'/><category term='taste'/><category term='hug'/><category term='hunger'/><category term='perception'/><category term='attic'/><category term='job'/><category term='monster'/><category 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term='parts'/><category term='friend'/><category term='freeze'/><category term='terror'/><category term='chauffeur'/><category term='Arbonne'/><category term='lost'/><category term='DID'/><category term='abuse'/><category term='alone'/><category term='depression'/><category term='drinking'/><category term='manipulative'/><category term='Taco Bell'/><category term='Little One'/><category term='let down'/><category term='The Protector'/><category term='odd'/><category term='suicide'/><category term='plane'/><category term='baker act'/><category term='fun'/><category term='3 days'/><category term='eating disorder'/><category term='exhausting'/><category term='why'/><category term='headache'/><category term='sadness'/><category term='weigh'/><category term='productive'/><category term='IFS'/><category term='hurt'/><category term='Pandora'/><category term='box'/><category term='12 Steps'/><category term='change'/><category term='help'/><category term='kidnapped'/><category term='little parts'/><category term='Mae'/><category term='hypnosis'/><category term='sex'/><category term='the facilitator'/><category term='Group'/><category term='memories'/><category term='Dream'/><category term='frozen'/><category term='heart-broken. codependent'/><category term='World War 3'/><category term='IOP'/><category term='driving'/><category term='victim service center'/><category term='flashback'/><category term='friends'/><category term='internal family system'/><category term='women'/><category term='therapist'/><category term='Switching'/><category term='rape'/><category term='name'/><category term='internal'/><category term='activities'/><category term='ghost'/><category term='satiety'/><category term='Spaghetti'/><category term='life'/><category term='exiles'/><category term='call'/><category term='Treatment'/><category term='feelings'/><category term='Massage'/><category term='house'/><category term='messy'/><category term='Therapeutic Breakthrough'/><category term='overwhelmed'/><category term='diagnosis'/><category term='fat'/><category term='medicine'/><category term='money'/><title type='text'>People.Personalities.Parts</title><subtitle type='html'>This blog is to help navigate pieces of myself. I've struggled for 10 yrs in therapy for numerous "disorders." I've found an intuitive approach to myself in a technique called the Internal Family System Model. Under no circumstances do I claim to be a therapist or provide internet therapy. This blog is for me and my "parts" to speak, express and gather feedback / validation. I no longer want to burden other people but need a place to release. I hope you find help or comfort in my experiences.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>66</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-1960208045462273137</id><published>2012-01-08T22:47:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-08T23:05:12.863-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='depression'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parts'/><title type='text'>Depressed</title><content type='html'>I find myself deeply troubled tonight. I've been skirting on the edge of depression and have probably finally crossed over. I am very upset with my job situation and feel trapped. I feel that if I didn't work where I do I may not need so much therapy but to be able to pay for any of it I have to work where I do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, please get me out of this catch 22!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have many more issues than my job but my job stress keeps blocking my progress. I wish I was independently wealthy. Is it bad to wish for a husband so I could quite working?  I'm sure it is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing that put me over the edge tonight was my friend's Facebook post. It is a woman I was in treatment with about six years ago. She got married this weekend. She's younger than me, prettier than me and skinnier than me. What hope do I have? I haven't even been on a date since treatment. I'm going to die an old cat lady! (crying) I love my cats but ..... Is this it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have all kind of parts popping up. Little parts, hopeless parts, critical parts, manager parts, mean parts, angry parts..... This is it. The big battle they all fight. Attachment and the pain that comes with it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could do things over. But what would I do differently? I can't change the things that made me the way I am. It began before I could talk. I can't help that my mother had three husbands and that my father is crazy. I was dealt a shitty hand. Not the worst by any means but not the best. I've done what I can but I will never have the winning hand. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't feel like I will ever be truly satisfied. There is something wrong with me. Deep down I'm just not grateful enough or good enough or worthy enough. That must be what these parts are truly protecting. They aren't protecting some perfect Self that can take care of us all. They are protecting the weak, unloveable, evil me that doesn't deserve to live. And that's why I have no romantic interests and can't hang on to any friends. People are intuitive and they eventually see the real me, the me I can't even see. People leave me because they can't handle the real me. I am doomed to live this life alone and abandoned forever. So, really, why live it? I know I'm going to heaven. Can't I just skip this hell?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-1960208045462273137?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/1960208045462273137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2012/01/depressed.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/1960208045462273137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/1960208045462273137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2012/01/depressed.html' title='Depressed'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-2287300491112785365</id><published>2011-12-21T19:32:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-21T19:39:00.852-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Big Step</title><content type='html'>I took a big step today in getting my parts to work together. My most damaged part has decided she wants to heal and is ready to move forward. I went to a place that is very triggering and used some new tools of creating imaginary safe places and containing this part so she doesn't have to experience the trauma over and over again. (I know I'm being vague but it's not safe yet to even share in this anonymous way.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It worked pretty well. My first try at being in this place without completely checking out and dissociating or hurting myself proved possible. There were a few moments when my system threatened to spin me out of control but I feel some hope that life might be possible, even for me with my new multiple personalities.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-2287300491112785365?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/2287300491112785365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2011/12/big-step.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/2287300491112785365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/2287300491112785365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2011/12/big-step.html' title='Big Step'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-4118400367037096734</id><published>2011-12-18T21:58:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-18T22:23:01.566-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='diagnosis'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dissociative identity disorder'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='insurance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='borderline personality disorder'/><title type='text'>D.I.D.</title><content type='html'>I was shocked this past week when I had to undergo an evaluation with my therapist in order to address an insurance issue. My insurance company asked to review my case for medical necessity, which basically means they are trying to cut off coverage for therapy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been through all kinds of emotions over this but I didn't expect the latest turn of events. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always said that I deal with a fairly normal level of multiplicity.  I always believed I am segregated into parts but in a more normal way. After having to review the diagnosis with my therapist, I have come to believe I truly have Dissociative Identity Disorder (D.I.D.).  I kind of always wondered since my parts seem to have totally different lives then me at times. Faced with the actual diagnosis on paper and being shared with other people is an entirely different story. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not worried about the work I do with my therapist. I trust her and do not believe that will change. She was actually very reluctant to do this evaluation but I asked her in order to try to get further insurance coverage.  I feel very alone though now.  I don't guess it's a common diagnosis and fear that people will think I'm crazy. My therapist gave me the choice to not include it in the report, which was kind of her but if it's true then why wouldn't it go into the report. She also diagnosed me with a couple other things.  The only one that shocked me was Borderline Personality Disorder. I can't imagine actually telling people I have this. I really feel crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To make it even worse, many of my parts are very activated. They seem to be in some sort of uproar. Sure, I have lots of other stuff going on recently too but it's just not a good time. On one hand its kind of nice to have a name for my issues but I feel like a freak.  I'm sorry if anyone reading this also has these issues.  I am sure I would never even think this way if someone else told me the same thing. It's hard to look in the mirror at myself without feeling like I've changed in some sort of way. I know I'm the same person but I feel ... Shame. Has anyone else deal with this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The final straw broke me when I realized my therapist isn't the only one who sees me this way. I went to a psychiatrist recently for some general anxiety issues as well as to see if she could help with the insurance issues. Without hardly any information from me and NONE from my therapist, the psychiatrist gave me the same basic diagnoses. How could that be? I don't even talk to her about parts. I hardly ever see her. It's actually been over two years since I've seen her and she ALSO thinks I'm crazy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm very conflicted and worried about what this could mean. I always wanted to feel special and different but not in this way. I feel slightly lost and can't tell anyone. Actually I've tried to tell people but my support network seems to be all dealing with their own crises. Why don't I matter enough?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hurting,&lt;br /&gt;Us&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-4118400367037096734?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/4118400367037096734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2011/12/did.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/4118400367037096734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/4118400367037096734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2011/12/did.html' title='D.I.D.'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-6790285685656690329</id><published>2011-12-05T23:01:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-05T23:20:45.900-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boundaries'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='therapist'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Group'/><title type='text'>Chaos</title><content type='html'>There has been considerable chaos in my system lately.  I am growing more and more each day but I feel like there are so many things against me in this world.  Not in a paranoid manner just a " life must go on" kind of way.  At times it gets very disappointing and I find myself desperate and even entertaining suicidal thoughts briefly as I feel hopeless. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have made some breakthroughs recently with my therapist but everything seems to be going so much slower. Im getting very frustrated.  I find many of my parts are activated from everything going on.  I have a bunch of external as well and internal issues arising, resulting in this chaos. Does anyone else get frustrated at the speed of your therapeutic progress?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cant help but feel a bit desperate or reactive at this time.  Maybe it's a Christmas thing too. There is always so much going on this time of year. I wish we could spread christmas out over the entire year or at least several months so it's not such a big ordeal!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to this group this past week that was very triggering on many levels for many parts.  I can't seem to shake the effects of this therapy group, specifically the therapist. She, like so many other people in my life, crossed my boundaries and I felt helpless to change anything.  I couldn't stop her.  I'm angry at her but I just end up taking it out on myself or my friends.  I want to yell and scream at her but I feel like I was the one that was wrong. Why do I internalize all of this sooooooooo much?  I get upset and angry that I'm upset and angry! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How crazy is that!?! And the even crazier part is that I still want to go back! Is this masochism? Is it just what I'm used to? There WAS good that came out of the group too.  Maybe I want to return for the good parts. I hope so. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to learn some better boundary lines if I go back though.  I dont want to spend another week sad, anxious and irittable over it.  So many of my parts were triggered that I still haven't been able to dialogue about it. All my parts are just screaming like a giant chorus of deamons. ... Not that my parts are evil but it's just this loud terrible sound of everyone trying to get heard.... Maybe a better analogy is like what you would hear as you want into a cafeteria or food court.... A loud mess of noise but no distinguishable words!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-6790285685656690329?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/6790285685656690329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2011/12/chaos.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/6790285685656690329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/6790285685656690329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2011/12/chaos.html' title='Chaos'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-7600750473264515804</id><published>2011-08-05T23:24:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-05T23:41:33.103-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='headache'/><title type='text'>Headaches</title><content type='html'>I've always had headaches.  I am told I started getting them around the age of five.  They have progressed to full blown migraines.  I have been to numerous doctors, who have not found anything really WRONG with me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think my parts have something to do with it.  When my parts are more activated, as a system, I get more headaches.  I think having many different "people" and trains of thought in my head tax my brain.  I know all the biology about how headaches are caused by increased blood flow to the brain and everything from food, to sleep, to posture, to stress can affect headaches.  I get all that but I think having multiple conflicting arguments with people of all ages in my head MUST contribute!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I currently have a headache.... I've started the process of REALLY dealing with some deep issues in therapy.  It's alerted the entire system and now the headaches are worse.  I think the headache may be an alert that the system is in stress and needs some kind of help.  I'm just so tired, scared and lonely.  It's hard to take the time I need to process everything.  It's easier to just forget about it but I can't forget a headache, especially when it's so bad it seems my teeth and hair actually hurt.  I know I need to let the hurt parts talk, listen to the exiles and address what's going on but tonight, I just can't do any more.  I've dropped into The Reporter part.  I don't like that part very much today but I guess it means the system isn't ready to feel everything yet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that makes sense... it is 11:34pm and I have to be up by 6am.  We really DO need to go to sleep.  Until later...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-7600750473264515804?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/7600750473264515804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2011/08/headaches.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/7600750473264515804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/7600750473264515804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2011/08/headaches.html' title='Headaches'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-1577836552668299286</id><published>2011-06-05T01:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-05T01:51:12.396-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ED'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Juliet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Journey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Romeo'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;“I had more friends when I hated myself!”&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I proclaimed the statement above during an exasperated, confused, rejected moment of my last week.  I’ve come a long way on my road to recovery from an eating disorder but now I’m fighting a new demon.  My current burdens are related to relationships.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a theory (as I usually do) about my current struggles.  When I was stuck in my eating disorder, that is all I knew, all I cared for, all I focused on.  People were an afterthought.  I struggled with relationships while in my eating disorder as well, but I let nothing stand in the way of ED and I.  My relationship with ED was the only one I allotted any effort. I was the perfect Juliet, ready to kill myself in order to be with my Romeo (ED).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My eating disorder is now gone and I’m left to face real people.  I never learned how to have true adult relationships.  My eating disorder started at a young age (sometimes I think as early as two years old). By the time I was 18 it was in full swing; threatening to take my life.  My relationship with ED was NOT a healthy, adult relationship.  It was dripping with neglect, distain, malice, manipulation and fear.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, when faced with the ups, downs, conflict and compromise of real relationships I am at a loss!  I’m 29 years old and don’t know how to navigate a safe, balanced friendship.  Romantic relationships aren’t even “on the menu.”  I learned from an early age to depend on one thing and one thing only!  ED was ALL that mattered.  ED gave me everything and took everything away.  ED was my God.  When I banished ED from my life I needed to find a way to fill the hole left behind.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first, I filled it with activities.  Staying busy helped for awhile but in the end left me burnt out and just as empty.  I began filling the void with people.  People are fun and caring.  Relationships are an important part of life.  It seemed to work until I found myself in a cycle of disappointment and abandonment, losing one friend after another.  I was depending on them too much.  I expected my friends to be my everything.  The problem with making someone my savior is that people are intrinsically flawed.  People will NEVER fill me up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am thrilled to be where I am today in recovery from my eating disorder.  I have freedom from food, weight and obsessive exercise. I no longer look towards binging, purging or starving to make me feel worthy. I truly love myself. My struggles today are with feelings of loneliness.  I believe complete recovery is a journey through many stages of growth.  This must be my next phase.  I accept the challenge.  I look forward to the day I can reflect and say, “I used to struggle with having normal relationships but today I am secure and enjoy healthy relationships with friends, family and myself.”  Until that day, I focus on staying present in the moment and learning more about my path to complete recovery.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-1577836552668299286?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/1577836552668299286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-had-more-friends-when-i-hated-myself.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/1577836552668299286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/1577836552668299286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-had-more-friends-when-i-hated-myself.html' title=''/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-1037867448242444912</id><published>2011-04-29T16:30:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-29T16:49:47.185-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='abandon'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='exiles'/><title type='text'>Exiles</title><content type='html'>I've made some good progress lately with my parts. We all want to move faster though. We are anxious to unburden Pandora. She seems to be the forefront of almost every issue that comes up lately. I don't know how to proceed though and my therapist doesn't really know IFS. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the meantime, I'm still learning more about my system. I'm getting to know my exiles better. I found a new part this past week. It's an exile; one of my Little Ones. They've all been sort of one chorus of voices for the longest time. They were too scared to separate. As I've been working through some of my harder past issues and making big steps to care for myself maybe they are feeling safer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't help but be scared of them. It's a strange cycle. They are scared of me for locking them away so they all joined together to keep from being identifiable. I'm scared of them so I lock them away. Now I'm trying to break the cycle and it's hard when it's embedded in mistrust and abandon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My abandonment issues have been front and center in the past few days.  A friend (very good friend) of mine is in the hospital and very very sick.  She's cut me out of that part of her life.  I don't understand it.  I'm trying to remember that it's not about me and she may just need different things than I do when I'm sick.  Then I had a dream about my old therapist.  She was such a problem for me and every now and then something happens to force all that pain back into my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know its all connected.  I know God's going to take care of all of this but I can't help but be sad, lonely and anxious at times.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-1037867448242444912?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/1037867448242444912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2011/04/exiles.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/1037867448242444912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/1037867448242444912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2011/04/exiles.html' title='Exiles'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-2152729302947656227</id><published>2011-04-11T15:30:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-11T15:48:05.488-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='messy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='appointments'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rapunzel'/><title type='text'>Birthday</title><content type='html'>I regret I have not posted to my blog in some time.  I apologize to anyone who was reading it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was my birthday and I took today off of work.  Many people think this was to "play" but it's been a really hard day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My anxiety level has been through the roof as one appointment led to the next.  First was a visit to the Women's Doctor, something I've literally been avoiding for at least 5 years due to my previous sexual assault. (The appointment wasn't great but I avoided the physical exam for another week so at least I didn't have to deal with that.)  Then I did a food experiential with my nutritionist, which is stressful in itself but I had to go to a restaurant that I've never been.  I was running late and got lost trying to get there.  Then I had an appointment with my therapist, that I was sort of looking forward to because I had lots I needed to talk about but I got derailed.  I ran into a close family friend at the office and found out she's seeing MY THERAPIST!  I don't like that.  I don't want anyone I know to see my therapist.  SHE'S MINE!  It is this really weird, stressful dynamic.  I don't want to hear about my therapist from someone else.  I don't want to hear how she's different or has different rules for one person over me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I still feel sick to my stomach and have a headache from all the stress but I feel like my Birthday weekend is running out and I should be having FUN!  I have to go to my terrible job tomorrow and I don't want to!  All I want to do is sleep away this pain (physical and emotional) but then I will also sleep away my day!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My little parts (Rapunzel in particular) wants to watch the movie Tangled but I feel silly for that. I also worry it will make the headache worse. Then Victoria feels like we haven't accomplished enough this weekend (which is a lie) so wants me to get up and clean the house (which really DOES need it).  Where is my sense of balance? Why can't I just understand what I want to do?  I've been like this with food lately too.  I have no idea what I want to eat at any given time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel pretty messy right now.  I want someone to tell me what to do or take care of me or at least tell me I'm okay!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-2152729302947656227?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/2152729302947656227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2011/04/birthday.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/2152729302947656227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/2152729302947656227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2011/04/birthday.html' title='Birthday'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-3072648866699718792</id><published>2010-12-31T00:55:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-31T01:34:23.485-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='duality'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girl'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='therapist'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ballet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='little parts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Black Swan'/><title type='text'>Black Swan</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TR135JOyjTI/AAAAAAAAAF8/har3jVrYeJc/s1600/Black-Swan-natalie-portman-mask-black-swan-600x302.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556729338859261234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 166px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TR135JOyjTI/AAAAAAAAAF8/har3jVrYeJc/s320/Black-Swan-natalie-portman-mask-black-swan-600x302.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just saw the movie Black Swan. My mind is racing. I have to wonder if I'm slightly similar to the Nina in the movie. Are my parts slowly driving me mad? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Swan Lake has always been my favorite ballet. The music, the movement, the story ... it's beautiful. But it's pretty twisted when we really analyze it.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Basic plot:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Young, innocent, beautiful girl is put under a spell by an evil wizard so that he can control her. She's only allowed to take human form at night, while by day she's a swan. She falls in love with a prince who "mistakenly" pledges his love to the evil wizard's daughter. The girl then commits suicide to avoid the tragedy of his "mistake."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the movie I just saw with Natalie Portman, she gets the staring role in the ballet and basically goes crazy. She cannot handle the duality of the role as she has to tap into her "dark side." I am always wondering what I will discover as I get to know more of my parts, especially the scary ones. Will they overtake me? Am I really me? What do they know that I don't? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been working a lot with my little parts lately and it's very painful. The deep hurt they feel is hard to bare. Something came up recently about my old therapist. I was so attached to her, the Little Ones were so attached. I can hardly stand to hear her name. I don't know how to get her out of my head and now she's infiltrated my dreams. When will it stop?!?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-3072648866699718792?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/3072648866699718792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/12/black-swan.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/3072648866699718792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/3072648866699718792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/12/black-swan.html' title='Black Swan'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TR135JOyjTI/AAAAAAAAAF8/har3jVrYeJc/s72-c/Black-Swan-natalie-portman-mask-black-swan-600x302.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-3015505472944366001</id><published>2010-12-24T11:35:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-24T11:57:21.239-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fairy tale'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>Fairy Tales?</title><content type='html'>What are fairy tales today? I've been trying to come up with a grown up / mental health fairy tale for months. I can lay the ground work for the beginning... abuse, neglect, abandon, betrayal, control but how does it end? There's no good ending. Any way I spin it the story doesn't work. It either ends realistically, which means loss and struggle or ends in a fairy tale format which only furthers the disappointment that fantasies never happen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to come up with a story to give hope but be realistic. I can't do that. I wanted to come up with a story with a lesson of "Bad things happen but it's okay, they can turn out right." I wanted to write an adult fairy tale that explains mental illness to adults and children with the message that it will be okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I sit in my lonely, gloomy condo, crying on Christmas Eve, I realized there is no good ending. I'm contemplating the next 48 hours I will be spending with my family and dreading it. Why do I hate them so much? I love them...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just ate my breakfast and want to throw it up. I haven't purged in 7 weeks but it's getting harder and harder. Especially, when I add the fact that I am in some manner nauseous or having acid reflux all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have so much to do. I have to wrap all these Christmas presents and clean my house and about 100 other things but all I want to do is curl up and disappear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My whole system is hurting. I worked with my therapist to try to prepare but it's not working. My parts are all enmeshed and in panic. This is the worst I have felt near Christmas, ever. What's so different this time? Why so much pain this time?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-3015505472944366001?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/3015505472944366001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/12/fairy-tales.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/3015505472944366001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/3015505472944366001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/12/fairy-tales.html' title='Fairy Tales?'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-8005398552218040804</id><published>2010-10-09T21:07:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-09T21:52:17.805-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='decision'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='plane'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='conflicted'/><title type='text'>Decision</title><content type='html'>I've decided to stay in my current job, live in my house and turn down the Ohio job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's more to life than a job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I want my current job? Do I think it will be any less frustrating? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NO! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I going to regret my decision?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Probably...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would I regret the decision either way?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Definitely!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have barley been able to think of anything else for weeks. I have to stop the debate. I worry that I taking the safe route out of fear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It can't be such a bad thing to pick the safe answer when recovery is on the line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made my decision on a plane trip from CT to FL. I couldn't stop thinking about it so figured it was time to make a decision. I'm lucky people on planes are in their own little worlds because I was crying most of the trip. I don't want to keep make this decision. I really want to be able to be done with it all but even today I'm already second guessing myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm starting to dread work on Monday and the hot winters already. I'm starting to like my life here though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so conflicted!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-8005398552218040804?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/8005398552218040804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/10/decision.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/8005398552218040804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/8005398552218040804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/10/decision.html' title='Decision'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-6493211678057849284</id><published>2010-09-26T23:03:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-26T23:14:19.590-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='change'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='backslide'/><title type='text'>Confused</title><content type='html'>I found myself surfing the web tonight to see if laxatives REALLY DO make someone lose weight.  I didn't go on the pro-ana/mia sites but it doesn't matter.  I'm still having the urge to binge / purge / restrict dispite the warnings I read from medical sites.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really VERY stressed out.  I called my dad yesterday and he didn't asnwer the phone.  I don't really like my dad but I know this is some kind of punishment.  About two weeks ago he hung up on me because I didn't want to talk to him about something.  He hasn't talked to me since.  The guilt has set in.  I'm also having to decide if I'm going to move to Ohio for a job.  Most the the time, I don't want to go but parts of mine want the adventure and change of environment.  I am beyond confused and no one is going to be able to help me with this.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got the job offer and I've been crying off and on ever since.  That just doesn't seem right!  Then again, change is always hard but that doesn't mean it's bad.  I'm so confused.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also sort of at a pivotal time in my recovery.  I'm sure I would backslide if I moved.  I'm already starting (as stated above). Do I want that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm afraid if I don't take this job (it's a great opportunity) that I might just die in my current job.  I really hate my job and want to change industries.  Do I take the risk that I will find something here or go for the sure thing that will mean EVERYTHING changes?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-6493211678057849284?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/6493211678057849284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/09/confused.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/6493211678057849284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/6493211678057849284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/09/confused.html' title='Confused'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-666647751392238110</id><published>2010-09-22T21:23:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-22T21:48:15.976-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='haven'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chauffeur'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='safe haven'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lost'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drive'/><title type='text'>Driving Myself Crazy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TJqxlFrFpOI/AAAAAAAAAFo/Wb6HGsUZpcc/s1600/lost+cartoon"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 191px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TJqxlFrFpOI/AAAAAAAAAFo/Wb6HGsUZpcc/s200/lost+cartoon" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519919544032142562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I REALLY should not be allowed to drive!  If I didn't have to get places beyond walking distance, I wouldn't drive.  I fantasize about having my own chauffeur instead of things like owning a mansion or a beach home in Hawaii because I HATE to drive!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again this evening I found myself in the middle of "lost."  I've lived in my same city for a total of about 14 years!  I "blacked out" and when I "came to" I had no idea where I was!  NONE!  I just kept driving because I could tell I was not in a good part of town.  I eventually found my way home but the drive that should have taken 10 minutes took 30 instead.  That's not much lost time but it's still a little scary and VERY irritating. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The name of the street I turn on when I'm getting close to my home is two words long... the last word is HAVEN.  I couldn't help but say the words "safe haven" to myself as I turned to enter my neighborhood. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TJqxk8ZnWYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/cnRNN28OEeE/s1600/lost+sign"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 132px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TJqxk8ZnWYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/cnRNN28OEeE/s200/lost+sign" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519919541542934914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-666647751392238110?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/666647751392238110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/09/driving-myself-crazy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/666647751392238110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/666647751392238110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/09/driving-myself-crazy.html' title='Driving Myself Crazy'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TJqxlFrFpOI/AAAAAAAAAFo/Wb6HGsUZpcc/s72-c/lost+cartoon' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-1064635443503505162</id><published>2010-09-06T19:16:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-06T19:54:35.784-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='addiction'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='attachment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cycle'/><title type='text'>Attachment / Relationship Addiction</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TIV910tUxAI/AAAAAAAAAFA/k-NYyzj7wgs/s1600/abandon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TIV910tUxAI/AAAAAAAAAFA/k-NYyzj7wgs/s200/abandon.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513951682420327426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the many issues I struggle with is abandonment which has lead to attachment disorders and relationship addiction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have found a pattern in my relationships. My relationship addiction does not come in the form of romantic relationships. I can string together my life by the people I "attach" to. I seem to hop from one mother-replacement figure to another. I've known this about myself for several years now but can't seem to change the behavior. I HATE THIS ABOUT MYSELF!!!!!!!!!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have spent much of the day angry at myself, no LIVID at myself because I have identified my next "mother / mentor figure." It's really very much out of my control. I don't seem to understand what I'm doing until it's done and my next "victim" is all I can think about. I feel like a vampire, sucking the life out of the people who are nice to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to stop doing this!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TIV-6txKe0I/AAAAAAAAAFY/ko_BkXdF8Jw/s1600/mentor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 116px; height: 116px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TIV-6txKe0I/AAAAAAAAAFY/ko_BkXdF8Jw/s400/mentor.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513952865968356162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These aren't people that I have any real relationship with though... well, sometimes it is but that's only when I've done enough to get them to "take care of me." It's very codependent and manipulative and I CAN'T STAND IT! The realization that I have done it again has really got me depressed. I just want to die! I shouldn't be allowed to be around people. I want to kill myself. The world would be a better place without me. I feel so sorry for the people I put in this position. It's not fair to them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seem to attach to very similar people each time, too. One of the first people I remember was a Christian camp counselor. I had this intense conversation with her then kept calling her after the camp to try and hang out.... She was probably in her late 20's and I was only in 6th grade. The other women have been people like dance teachers, school teachers, my old sponsor, a couple therapists... the list goes on. It's pathetic, shameful and excruciating. These woman usually (but not always) have the same kind of characteristics. They are generally older than me, pretty, average size, smart, nurturing, helpful and many times have dark, curly hair. What does this all mean? Most importantly, how do I stop doing this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TIV-qNtgqmI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/D969TcCrZTk/s1600/dontleave.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 131px; height: 121px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TIV-qNtgqmI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/D969TcCrZTk/s320/dontleave.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513952582485191266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The general pattern looks something like this:&lt;br /&gt;-I'm sad or lonely and start a new program of some kind&lt;br /&gt;-I find a woman who is kind enough to listen to my problems&lt;br /&gt;-This woman is helpful and caring&lt;br /&gt;-I want to be around her all the time&lt;br /&gt;-I start thinking about her much of the day: harmless things like, what I want to tell her about a particular incident or wondering what she would think about something&lt;br /&gt;-I start crossing into calling her or e-mailing her more than I know a normal relationship would at this particular point&lt;br /&gt;-I start to read too much into her responses and feel hurt when she doesn't get back to me soon enough or give me the attention I want&lt;br /&gt;-My expectations for her become far greater than any one person can take on&lt;br /&gt;-This period may last as short as a couple weeks to as long as a couple years until eventually I am let down enough times that I get so angry that I end it or she realizes that I have become a "leach" and leaves me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This cycle is self perpetuating as it continues to create the strong sense of abandonment and loneliness thus spurring me toward someone else to "fill me up."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lord, please make it stop!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TIV-BnAXsUI/AAAAAAAAAFI/MmWirrQTJ70/s1600/cartoon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 640px; height: 236px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TIV-BnAXsUI/AAAAAAAAAFI/MmWirrQTJ70/s320/cartoon.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513951884900544834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-1064635443503505162?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/1064635443503505162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/09/attachment-relationship-addiction.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/1064635443503505162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/1064635443503505162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/09/attachment-relationship-addiction.html' title='Attachment / Relationship Addiction'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TIV910tUxAI/AAAAAAAAAFA/k-NYyzj7wgs/s72-c/abandon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-4430645604201550483</id><published>2010-09-05T23:00:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-05T23:02:56.330-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pandora'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Celebrate Recovery'/><title type='text'>Quick Update</title><content type='html'>In working with some trauma and working a lot at my real job, I've found little time or energy for much else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been going to Celebrate Recovery regularly and I think that's helping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pandora (a part of mine) has been highly activated lately with the exposure of her secret.  We are working it out together but it's not easy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-4430645604201550483?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/4430645604201550483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/09/quick-update.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/4430645604201550483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/4430645604201550483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/09/quick-update.html' title='Quick Update'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-5549327171709620296</id><published>2010-08-22T22:38:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-22T22:45:05.337-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='past'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='activities'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Living Life</title><content type='html'>I have recenlty had the strange thought that I don't really want to LIVE my life as much as I want to HAVE LIVED my life. It's a very complex thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week, I had planned to go to a free concert. I can't think of any reason why I didn't want to go to it but I didn't. I felt trapped in thinking I had to go to this concert. I kept thinking that I would have a good time once I was there but then the thought became, "I'll be happy I went to the concert." I ended up not going. Who wants to do something just to have a memory of it? It's kind of hard to explain.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the same kind of thought when it comes to the gym or cleaning. I have the thought that I'll be glad I went afterward. Why do it if I don't enjoy it in the moment? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to LIVE my LIFE. I don't want to have a goal to have already done something. I understand things like the gym, cleaning or getting through a big project but not the everyday "fun" things like concerts, reading, etc. What does that say about my life?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-5549327171709620296?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/5549327171709620296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/08/living-life.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/5549327171709620296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/5549327171709620296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/08/living-life.html' title='Living Life'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-6528089167420694241</id><published>2010-08-19T23:05:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-19T23:06:24.309-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='smart'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hair'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eat Pray Love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Loving Me</title><content type='html'>I have a thought that is bursting out of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve always really liked ONE thing about myself.  My hair.  I have GREAT hair.  I don’t think I’ve ever had a bad haircut; it always looks healthy, shiny, styled.  I just have great hair.  It’s been the one thing in my life that I have never felt guilty to say I liked about myself.  When therapists and nutritionists ask me to make lists of the things I like about myself, “my hair” always makes the list.  Sometimes it’s the only thing that makes list and most of the time it’s the only thing I TRULY believe when I write it on the list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight driving home from the movie “Eat Pray Love” I realized something else I like about myself.  I LOVE being smart.  I like having knowledge.  I enjoy sharing my wisdom with other people but it’s not necessary for me to enjoy it.  I like my intellect just for me.  I enjoy figuring things out, solving problems, putting things together and understanding complicated thoughts.  My intellectual abilities enhance my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This isn’t a prideful or superior thing.  (Neither is my hair.)  I don’t think I am smarter than the rest of the people on the earth.  (Nor do I think I have the BEST hair on the earth.)  It’s simply a quality about me that I value.  It’s a quality that I don’t feel bad for admitting I like in myself.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m not sure what else I like about myself.  Two things at 28 years old seem like a pretty short list but I feel blessed.  I’m blessed to have ANYTHING I like about myself.  I’d like to grow the list.  At times there have been more items on the list but not items I felt comfortable with admitting or believed to the extent I believe these two items.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s very calming to understand I like myself, even if for just two reasons.  It gives me the same emotion as snuggling on the couch with my favorite softest blankets.  I’m smiling.  I’m at peace and I’m comfortable.  Not because I am smart or have great hair but because I KNOW I am smart and ENJOY my hair.  Because I am loving myself….&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-6528089167420694241?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/6528089167420694241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/08/loving-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/6528089167420694241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/6528089167420694241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/08/loving-me.html' title='Loving Me'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-8976533608407123915</id><published>2010-08-15T22:09:00.010-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-15T23:12:18.950-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Protector'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pandora'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flashback'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Monster'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rape'/><title type='text'>Dialogue - Flashback</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TGisNno7amI/AAAAAAAAAEo/8YuqKD53AS8/s1600/flasback.png"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TGisNno7amI/AAAAAAAAAEo/8YuqKD53AS8/s320/flasback.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505839894439357026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recently (2 days ago) had a flashback of the last rape I experienced. This doesn't happen often to me. I've been raped twice. At times I actually feel lucky that I can't remember anything (due to drinking or being drugged) of the first time. The second one is enough for me to handle. Both were traumatic (memories or not).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided a long time ago not to press charges. My thought is that one of the two lives involved has already been ruined, why ruin the man's life too. I'm told this is a compassionate view. I'm also told it's a codependent view. It is very much based out of the idea that I feel like it was my fault and he (both men) may not even think he did anything wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've recently come to realize that no matter what I call it, who I blame or how little I remember of it, the incident affected my life negatively. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my parts holds those events. I've written about her before. It's Pandora. She let the box open and everything spilled out. On Friday in the middle of shaking, remembering and reliving the event I didn't take the time to check in with any of my parts. Today they burst forward in the middle of church and demanded to be heard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It started with a general sadness. I was deeply sad and lonely today. I could tell that The Monster was activated as he filled the place where my heart should be. It seeped into my body from my throat to my stomach. I began journaling just to observe The Monster. It's very hard for me to connect with this part or understand it. Here's what came out as I wrote:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;It is a chaotic, thundering, anxious storm of loneliness and despair. I want to curl up, sink into the floor, hide, scream, cry and die. It (The Monster) is very amorphous. It has no boundaries. It cannot be contained. It has access to everyone and everywhere. It is out of control. It is extremely reactionary. It's overwhelmed and over whelming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I wasn't getting much from general observation that I didn't already know so I began to dialogue:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: What are you trying to do or tell me, Monster?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Monster: There's too much packed away. You HAVE to clean some of this out. I can't hold it anymore. It's unrealistic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: I don't know how to do that. It hasn't been working. Why aren't any of you releasing and unburdening the things you hold? I can't change what happened!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Monster: You have to listen. You have to do something different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: There are too many to listen to. Too many stories and too much pain. How do I ever have enough time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;~~~At this point The Monster was replaced by The Protector. I didn't realize it at first though.~~~&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Protector: Deal with the things that hurt and affect you the most first. You MUST spend time with us. It is the only way you will know us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: I'm worried I won't be able to handle it. I'm worried my therapist (or anyone else) will not be able to help me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Protector: She can and will. You are the one who will really do all the work though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me (&lt;em&gt;this is when I heard that it was The Protector&lt;/em&gt;): Hello Protector. I'm glad you're here. What happened with Pandora? Where were you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Protector: It's not her fault. I opened the safe. I let out the stories, images and past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Did you tell her? Did you warn her? She's scared. She's hiding. She feels like she failed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Protector: I did not. She would have never let me help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: How can you say that was help? How can you call yourself a Protector? Who are you really? What about Pandora?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Protector: I AM your protector. It's time to deal with it. I want the best for you. Let's talk to Pandora. She needs to know she did a good job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TGisYJgTCwI/AAAAAAAAAEw/pkPrL0rxk1s/s1600/pandora.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 217px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TGisYJgTCwI/AAAAAAAAAEw/pkPrL0rxk1s/s320/pandora.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505840075328654082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pandora: How can you say that!?!? I failed! My only job was to keep that hidden!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Protector: That WAS your job. It killed you though. You did it very well all this time. You didn't and still don't know the whole plan. Your job was to hide it until the girl (ME) could deal with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me (&lt;em&gt;feeling genuine concern&lt;/em&gt;): I'm so sorry Pandora. I'm sorry you had to do that in the first place. I'm sorry you don't feel any other purpose or sense of worth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Protector: You are beautiful Pandora. You can rest. You will have another job. Remember how we made this chair for you? Will you sit in it. (&lt;em&gt;Pandora had been huddled up in a dark corner hiding and crying. The Protector takes her hand and leads her to the chair. She sits down and continues to cry.&lt;/em&gt;) It's okay. I'll stay with you. We are okay now (&lt;em&gt;addressing me&lt;/em&gt;). You can go back to the church bookstore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Can I?! This was a lot. How do I smile now? I'm blank.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Monster: I know. I have to take this. I'll do my best but I'm almost at capacity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-8976533608407123915?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/8976533608407123915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/08/dialogue-flashback.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/8976533608407123915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/8976533608407123915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/08/dialogue-flashback.html' title='Dialogue - Flashback'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TGisNno7amI/AAAAAAAAAEo/8YuqKD53AS8/s72-c/flasback.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-809604427411259545</id><published>2010-08-15T17:21:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-15T17:51:25.480-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='step father'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='abuse'/><title type='text'>Abuse?</title><content type='html'>I've been dreading seeing my step father. Today the feeling is more intense since I have to see him tonight. I generally always dread seeing him but it's been much worse in the past couple months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems like every time I've seen him in the past couple months, he's done something to hurt me or the family. Examples: hit my sister just walking by because she didn't read his mind and do his job, refuse to see any of us because his pride was hurt, insult my mom multiple times, belittle my brother, cuss us all out.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why would I want to spend any time with him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just got the "warning" call from my mom. I get them often. They always have the same basic script. "You should come over a little later than originally planned because something happened to piss him off and now he's in an even worse mood than normal." This is my mother's speak for 'I'm trying to minimize the pain he will inflict on you and get you prepared to deal with the hell that's about to ensue.' I'm not sure if she consciously knows that's what she's saying but she delivers the message well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm honestly glad to have the extra 30 minutes or so to prepare but who should ever have to PREPARE to see their step father. I appreciate the information but at the same time it's almost not worth it. It just builds the anxiety and I usually end the call with asking if mom is okay.... Codependent, much? You see these messages from my mom never include the option to just not come or the glimpse of hope that she's actually told him what an ass he is and won't put up with it anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is this abuse?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-809604427411259545?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/809604427411259545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/08/abuse.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/809604427411259545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/809604427411259545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/08/abuse.html' title='Abuse?'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-845735614979786810</id><published>2010-08-13T23:33:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-14T00:30:58.091-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='victim service center'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sexual assault'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='CR'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bed'/><title type='text'>Jumbled Up and Messy</title><content type='html'>Today's been hard. Harder than most days. (I feel like I say that a lot...) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been doing much better with my eating disorder behaviors. I haven't been binging, purging or restricting much at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw my nutritionist today. I've been waiting almost 2 weeks to see her. She's very helpful for me. She's changing her hours though and won't have any time available when I'm not working. I immediately became almost hopeless and felt abandoned again. I feel like I rely too much on her but what else can I do? I feel like I have to learn to rely on someone to regain faith in people. Everyone has let me down. I wish I could see her more but she's expensive and now our schedules clash. She helps me so much though. I'm worried I won't get to see her at all now. I don't know what to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the things I discussed with her today is the sexual assault I've experienced. It's not a topic I can speak of freely. I didn't even get into the details of it with her but it was still hard. We talked about how it's affected my food and eating. I've seen my nutritionist close to four years now. I had the eating disorder before the sexual assault but I began to wonder if the eating disorder would have been nearly as bad if the sexual assault had not happened. &lt;br /&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm debating on if I want to report the assault to the police. I heard of this organization called the Victim Service Center. It helps people who have been &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TGYYz4K1aeI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/EHACBD2ZKN0/s1600/vsc.png"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 177px; height: 125px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TGYYz4K1aeI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/EHACBD2ZKN0/s320/vsc.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505114874037234146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;victims. As I've begun to think more and more about it, it's coming back. I've never really healed from it. I can't push it aside anymore if I want to be in recovery. I just don't know if reporting it will help me at all. What if it's just more pain without any justice or help? I would like it if the center could give me a grant to pay for therapy and nutrition counseling but I also feel like I'm steeling. I feel like my case isn't that bad and I don't deserve the money. I'm scared to tell my story because it hasn't helped the few times I did. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found myself in a flashback today. (Probably because I was talking about it earlier.) I was shaking and crying and hopeless and wanted to die. I felt the same things I did that night. On one hand I feel like I'm over dramatizing it but on the other hand I feel like I was a victim. I really don't know what to do.&lt;br /&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TGYZauWLgMI/AAAAAAAAAEY/5aXbPVsPgEo/s1600/headerbar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 48px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TGYZauWLgMI/AAAAAAAAAEY/5aXbPVsPgEo/s320/headerbar.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505115541415362754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been spending some time with a girl from Celebrate Recovery. I like her. We get along well and she's pretty easy to be around. Tonight, I'm not sure what happened though. I feel like I was too much for her to handle. Or maybe I was giving too much advice. Or maybe she was just dealing with her own stuff. After CR we had planned to have dinner but she left. She called me on her way out. I figured she still wanted to have dinner so I asked where she wanted to go. When I met her at the restaurant she was kind of upset. I listened and offered sympathy and advice when I could. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I thought she was sort of done venting and being upset I started to tell her about what was going on for me today. I felt like she was frustrated by me. I felt like she thought I should be doing more for my recovery. At one point she asked me several things about if I had a sponsor, if I was working the steps, if I had an accountability partner and told me how that's the point of CR. She also sort of lectured me on why binging and purging is bad for me. (She's a recovered bulimic so I know she understands.) She told me I should do a different type of therapy. She said that she wishes I saw in myself what she sees in me. That sounds like a compliment and it was but then she started telling me that I should be using my spiritual gifts more to give back. She was telling me I should be a leader in CR and that I didn't need to sing in the band (which is what I want to do. Was she telling me I'm a bad singer?) When do I get to be "given to?" Why do I have to keep giving up and giving up and giving up? When is God going to fill into me! I know that's selfish, especially because I have so much and have been in therapy for years. I should have it all figured out right? So what does that say about me if I don't have it figured out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what she was trying to say. Why did she say all that? Why couldn't she let me be sad and empathize with me? I wanted to share my story a little bit with her and get some advice on how to handle the emotions that have been coming up for me. I didn't want to get a lecture. I think I need a break from her for a few days. I've seen her 3 days in this week and talked to her almost every day. That's much more than I usually do.&lt;br /&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TGYb6JaFuwI/AAAAAAAAAEg/IJ5y6zi9k-8/s1600/monster-under-the-bed.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 233px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TGYb6JaFuwI/AAAAAAAAAEg/IJ5y6zi9k-8/s320/monster-under-the-bed.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505118280278719234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I can't sleep in my bed tonight. That's a tale tell sign that the sexual assault is really bothering me. I've got my stuff to sleep on the couch all set out. I slept on my couch for a week after the last incident happened. I could barely go into my room for days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-845735614979786810?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/845735614979786810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/08/jumbled-up-and-messy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/845735614979786810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/845735614979786810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/08/jumbled-up-and-messy.html' title='Jumbled Up and Messy'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TGYYz4K1aeI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/EHACBD2ZKN0/s72-c/vsc.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-756882513594766086</id><published>2010-08-07T16:13:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-07T16:32:04.964-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ED'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='why'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='recovery'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='3 days'/><title type='text'>Recovery Again</title><content type='html'>So I'm back in recovery.  I'm NOT thrilled about it though.  I'm still very much on the fence and there is a strong pull to restrict.  I ate 2 desserts yesterday and literally hated myself for it!  I went to bed wishing I would die because of what I ate.  I didn't purge it because I know ED is still running the show. I'm trying to separate and disobey his commands.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been eating disorder symptom free for almost 3 days.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TF3CZcWoTWI/AAAAAAAAAEI/hA_HWyVCixU/s1600/mother_theresa1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TF3CZcWoTWI/AAAAAAAAAEI/hA_HWyVCixU/s320/mother_theresa1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502768062080240994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My greatest fear is still that I will be alone forever.  I was reading TIME Magazine today.  The entire magazine is about Mother Teresa.  I am fascinated by this woman. It says that she was not "called to be a wife."  Maybe she was happy about that but what about me?  I know God doesn't call us all to marriage but I want it soooooooooooo badly.  But I often don't know why I want it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My therapist asked me if I could be in a relationship while still in a relationship with ED?  I don't know.  The books and professionals say that you can't but empirical data has proven otherwise.  Many of my friends with ED have been in good supportive relationships.  What do you think?  Can someone have a healthy romantic relationship while engaging in an eating disorder?  Why or why not?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-756882513594766086?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/756882513594766086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/08/recovery-again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/756882513594766086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/756882513594766086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/08/recovery-again.html' title='Recovery Again'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TF3CZcWoTWI/AAAAAAAAAEI/hA_HWyVCixU/s72-c/mother_theresa1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-3720891041216353287</id><published>2010-08-03T22:42:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-03T23:14:29.038-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='terror'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wedding'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='recovery'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weigh'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fat'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='resonate'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='alone'/><title type='text'>TERRIFIED</title><content type='html'>I am terrified TERRIFIED of being FAT, gaining weight, being the size my clothes keep telling me I am and just plain having any normal body size.  This may seem odd to the people who know me, since I am well into the obese range of weight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been binging, purging and restricting for 17 days now.  I've managed to retain the equivalent of about 1 meal a day.  I've "successfully" lost about 5 pounds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I laid in bed tonight it hit me.  While terror may reside in sizes, weights and the mirror, my true anguish comes from the thought, "I don't want to be alone."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a new friend of mine (who's in recovery) to thank for that statement.  She called me today and said those words at one point during the conversation.  She was referencing something totally different.  In the moment I felt a note ring in my body, like the feeling one gets when a cello solo resonates with a single expressive sound. In the moment I figured my heart was jumping in compassion for my friend.  I didn't give it another thought until I was curled up in bed trying to get to sleep despite my growling stomach and dreams of food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure how I got that moment of clarity but I thank God for it.  I began to cry, not your average couple tears on the pillow cry.  I'm talking all out, scared the neighbors will hear, mascara everywhere, fetal position, gut wrenching sob.  (FYI - I don't cry alone normally.  I just can't.)  That thought is my motivation for SOOOOOOOOOO much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm reading a book (Life Without ED) for a therapeutic book discussion group.  It's a great book but it's not helping me.  I keep thinking about the lessons the author is giving but I fight the truth in them.  I'm not sure what I want to do next.  I'm tired of not eating.  I LIKE FOOD!  Now that I know the "why" in my relapse, what next?  I feel like I need to get into see my Nutritionist or Therapist but what will that say about me?  I can't even get myself to eat unless I pay a healthcare professional to coach me? I'm unsure of who is talking at any point lately.  Is it ED or Me?  Those two voices aren't any different any more or maybe my voice is just gone. Then I remember what the author said, "Whatever it takes."  Am I ready to do whatever it takes?  I know the "whatever" is never the fun side of recovery.  I don't get to talk my way through malnutrition. If I could, I'd be cured! Talking about feelings and relaxation techniques are the fun side of recovery.  "Whatever" generally boils down to eating when I'm hungry and stopping when I'm full.  I know I have to just BITE THE BULLET (pun intended) but even my cry didn't get me into the kitchen to make a meal or even drink some milk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My current plan is to go to work without eating or drinking anything and weigh myself on the scale in shipping.  Then I'll make up my mind what my next step is.  How terrible is that!?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My fears are outweighing my better judgment and logic.  I want to be a certain weight for my cousin's wedding.  I hate weddings.  It's just another reminder of how ALONE I am.  And this one is with my entire family in a small city, while we stay in one giant house TOGETHER! (SAVE ME!) I want to show them I've lost weight.  I want a boyfriend.  I DON'T WANT TO BE ALONE AND BEING FAT JUST KEEPS ME ALONE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-3720891041216353287?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/3720891041216353287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/08/terrified.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/3720891041216353287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/3720891041216353287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/08/terrified.html' title='TERRIFIED'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-2545229487473437981</id><published>2010-07-22T17:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-22T17:52:11.932-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='let down'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='purge'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='binge'/><title type='text'>The Let Down</title><content type='html'>I have this feeling I call “The Let Down.”  It comes on when things end, when I “lose” people, after big events.  It leads to lots of my ED behaviors because Ed likes to tell me that if I binge / purge / restrict the feeling will go away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to this really neat presentation / speech Monday night where I had a great time.  Below are some of the thoughts I was able to capture after the event:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really trying to think of this as a transition instead of an end but it just feels like an end.  It’s like tomorrow it may as well had never happened because it’s over.  Emptiness is all that is left behind.  It may never happen again and unless its ALWAYS going on its not good enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All or nothing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so sad. I feel lost and alone. I feel unimportant and unnecessary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why doesn't anyone love me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(At this point I binged)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so I eat and it all goes away.  Everything stops. Nothing matters but the food.  Taste or not.  Good or not. Hungry or not.  Numbness, tingling and throbbing surges through my body. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the heaviness again.  The discomfort in the stomach. The guilt from eating and the fear of FAT. Panic sets in as fear grows.  Fear of further rejection because of FAT.  Fear of what I have done.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A way out. I must find a way out.  Have to get rid of it. NOW! There's only one way out of this rabbit hole and its not pretty.  Shame. Secrecy. Disgust. Anxiety. Inevitable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(At this point I purged, which left my thoughts very jumbled and unformed and desperate, as you can see below)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lost. Useless. Unlovable. Worthless. Alone. Pointless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tired. Dry. Hot. Throbbing. Headache.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sad. Disgusting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is not worth living. The only thing that matters is being skinny. I'm sooooooooooo NOT.  I'm obese. I've become my worst enemy. My worst nightmare has come true!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That stuff Rita was saying. Its not true. People don't help each other out. There's no light at the end of the tunnel. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a terrible person.  I deserve this. I want to die.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-2545229487473437981?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/2545229487473437981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/07/let-down.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/2545229487473437981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/2545229487473437981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/07/let-down.html' title='The Let Down'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-5244293946453426035</id><published>2010-06-29T12:40:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-22T17:43:09.704-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='You Raise Me Up'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wishing you were somehow here again'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hurt'/><title type='text'>Attached and Hurting "Reprise"</title><content type='html'>There are three songs that HIT me after I posted my last post.  They are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wishing You Were Somehow Hear Again&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were once my one companion&lt;br /&gt;You were all that mattered&lt;br /&gt;You were once a friend and father&lt;br /&gt;Then my world was shattered&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wishing you were somehow here again&lt;br /&gt;Wishing you were somehow near&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes it seemed if I just dreamed&lt;br /&gt;Somehow you would be here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wishing I could hear your voice again&lt;br /&gt;Knowing that I never would&lt;br /&gt;Dreaming of you won't help me to do&lt;br /&gt;All that you dreamed I could&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passing bells and sculpted angels&lt;br /&gt;Cold and monumental&lt;br /&gt;Seem for you the wrong companions&lt;br /&gt;You were warm and gentle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too many years fighting back tears&lt;br /&gt;Why can't the past just die?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wishing you were somehow here again&lt;br /&gt;Knowing we must say goodbye&lt;br /&gt;Try to forgive, teach me to live&lt;br /&gt;Give me the strength to try&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No more memories, no more silent tears&lt;br /&gt;No more gazing across the wasted years&lt;br /&gt;Help me say goodbye&lt;br /&gt;Help me say goodbye&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hurt&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seems like it was yesterday when I saw your face&lt;br /&gt;You told me how proud you were but I walked away&lt;br /&gt;If only I knew what I know today&lt;br /&gt;Ooh, Oooh..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would hold you in my arms&lt;br /&gt;I would take the pain away&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for all you've done&lt;br /&gt;Forgive all your mistakes&lt;br /&gt;There's nothing I wouldn't do&lt;br /&gt;To hear your voice again&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I want to call you&lt;br /&gt;But I know you won't be there&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OOh, I'm sorry for blaming you&lt;br /&gt;For everything I just couldn't do&lt;br /&gt;And I've hurt myself, by hurting you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somedays I feel broke inside but I will not admit&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I just want to hide, cause it's you I miss&lt;br /&gt;And it's so hard to say goodbye&lt;br /&gt;When it comes to this&lt;br /&gt;Oooh, Yeah..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would you tell me I was wrong?&lt;br /&gt;[ Lyrics found on [Link](Mouse over link to see full location) ]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would you help me understand?&lt;br /&gt;Are you looking down upon me?&lt;br /&gt;Are you proud of who I am?&lt;br /&gt;There's nothing I wouldn't do&lt;br /&gt;To have just one more chance&lt;br /&gt;To look into your eyes&lt;br /&gt;And see you looking back&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OOh, I'm sorry for blaming you&lt;br /&gt;For everything I just couldn't do&lt;br /&gt;And I've hurt myself, Oooh..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I had just one more day&lt;br /&gt;I would tell you how much&lt;br /&gt;That I've missed you since&lt;br /&gt;You've been away.&lt;br /&gt;Oooh, It's dangerous&lt;br /&gt;so out of line...&lt;br /&gt;to try and turn back time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry for blaming you&lt;br /&gt;For everything I just couldn't do&lt;br /&gt;And I've hurt myself..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By hurting you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You Raise Me Up&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I am down and, oh my soul, so weary,&lt;br /&gt;When troubles come and my heart burdened be.&lt;br /&gt;Then, I am still and wait here in the silence,&lt;br /&gt;Until you come and sit awhile with me.&lt;br /&gt;CHORUS:&lt;br /&gt;You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains&lt;br /&gt;You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas&lt;br /&gt;I am strong, when I am on your shoulders&lt;br /&gt;You raise me up.. to more than I can be.&lt;br /&gt;REPEAT CHORUS&lt;br /&gt;There is no life - no life without it's hunger&lt;br /&gt;Each restless heart beats so imperfectly&lt;br /&gt;But when you come and I am filled with wonder&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, I think I glimpse eternity&lt;br /&gt;You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains&lt;br /&gt;You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas&lt;br /&gt;And I am strong, when I am on your shoulders&lt;br /&gt;You raise me up .. to more than I can be&lt;br /&gt;You raise me up .. to more than I can be&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-5244293946453426035?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/5244293946453426035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/06/attached-and-hurting-reprise.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/5244293946453426035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/5244293946453426035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/06/attached-and-hurting-reprise.html' title='Attached and Hurting &quot;Reprise&quot;'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-6651140026559174270</id><published>2010-06-29T11:32:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-29T11:35:59.386-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Angel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='therapist'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Treatment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='IOP'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='heart-broken. codependent'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='attachment'/><title type='text'>Attached and Hurting</title><content type='html'>I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to think about two of my old therapists without crying. I even start to think about my current therapist and want to cry for the day I will have to say goodbye. I fear that’s going to be soon as I might be taking a pay cut. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My attachment issues are very deep seated. I can’t believe how upset I am today and since Friday over two of my old therapists. I will call them Beth-Anne and Dawn. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beth-Anne, I saw for about 3 years from 2003 to 2006. I saw her from the time I returned to school after a medical withdraw to the time I went into residential treatment and then about 6 months after treatment. It was a very hard time for me. I looked forward to my time with Beth-Anne. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had a way of portraying to me that I’m not crazy. She’s also the only person I’ve ever met (and very well may be the only person I will ever meet) who REALLY understood my family situation. :’( I am sooooooooooo sad not to have her in my life. She’s such a great person: funny, insightful, silly, loving, confident. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I had to stop seeing her professionally I tried to be friends with her. We e-mail several times and went to a play together. Then she e-mailed me one day that she couldn’t spend any more time with me because of ethical reasons. I felt so betrayed, alone and heart-broken. Why did it affect me so much? It’s 4 years later and I am still heart-broken. I don’t feel like anyone could understand this pain. When I tell people, they look at me as if I’m crazy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About a year ago, I severed all contact with her. I decided it wasn’t emotionally safe to e-mail her every now and then or see her on facebook. I wrote her an e-mail explaining several things and wishing her well. I hoped this would give me some closure. Friday, I saw someone who looked like she could be Beth-Anne’s sister. I’m in a group with her so I have to see her often. Looking at this woman hurts. And days later, it still hurts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dawn, I saw for about 2 or 3 years (approximately 2007 to 2009). I decided that I wanted to see her almost a year before I started seeing her. From the first few minutes I talked to her over the phone, I knew she was the therapist God sent me to get better. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was like my Angel and even looked like an Angel. She had a soft voice, friendly sky blue eyes, flowing blond hair and a very nurturing demeanor. She was very expensive for me so I had to wait until I got a better job. I saw her from about a year after I moved back to Orlando with my parents after another suicide gesture and a medical leave from work, to the point where I enrolled in her Intensive Outpatient Program. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I finished a month in IOP, she and I had a disagreement about finances and I decided not to see her anymore. I was furious by her accusing me of trying to take advantage of her and the fact that she had never worked with me over finances. I was so confused by why God would take her away from me but I had spent all my money on this IOP and couldn’t pay my bills. It did not end well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About a month after I stopped seeing her, I asked to start seeing her again. She agreed but when we went to schedule appointments she couldn’t fit me into her schedule. I was making all kinds of sacrifices (financially and time-wise) but I just wasn’t important enough to her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m still dealing with the insurance company on a claim for the IOP program and I have to mail her something today. I looked up her address on her website. Her picture was posted and her blue eyes were piercing. I don’t think I want to see her anymore because we had a sort of “love / hate” relationship and she’s very strict about time and money. My feelings toward her were always very intense and much of the time I would be angry over some challenge or ultimatum she was giving me. I just can’t shake her from my thoughts. I wish I had never met her. Then I wish all I could do is see her again. My heart longs for her... or what she gave me but I don't even know what that was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m guessing I got slightly enmeshed or codependent or something with both of them. These two examples are the strongest examples I have of my attachment disorder. It’s years later and the pain has not subsided. Why not? How do I hold on to these pains? Will they ever go away?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-6651140026559174270?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/6651140026559174270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/06/attached-and-hurting.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/6651140026559174270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/6651140026559174270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/06/attached-and-hurting.html' title='Attached and Hurting'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-1809797945186078487</id><published>2010-06-27T20:07:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-27T21:18:44.364-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='perception'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='art'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='starry night'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='skills'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sci fi'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='artist'/><title type='text'>Skills of Perception</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TCf3b4WSdiI/AAAAAAAAAD4/ZAaLzcrzr4w/s1600/160px-VanGogh-starry_night_ballance1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 128px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TCf3b4WSdiI/AAAAAAAAAD4/ZAaLzcrzr4w/s320/160px-VanGogh-starry_night_ballance1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487626729328637474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I enjoy the sci fi show called Doctor Who. I am watching an episode right now that involves Vincent Van Gogh. At the end of the show the two main characters and Vincent are staring up at the sky. Vincent starts to describe the sky as he sees it. He's describing Starry Night. In the TV picture, the actual sky turns into the painting, Starry Night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm told by my current therapist that I have some extra-ordinary skills of perception.  I have an excellent sense of smell.  I can hear more than most people (to the point that I can identify a person by the sound of their walk).  I am also extra sensitive.  I get migraines and suffer from mental health issues.  I'm told these two things are characteristic of people who have a "sensitive brain."  I believe all these things but sometimes I wonder why I have these "extra skills."  What makes me so special?  I don't understand this negative sceptisism.... It's got the same tone as the part that keeps me stuck in my eating disorder.  It's the part that repeats things like "How dare you think life could be good?  You're no princess.  You'll work hard and get nothing out of life, just like the rest of us.  The sooner you stop putting on aires the sooner you will be able to do something useful in your life."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At times it's nice to have these extra perceptive skills.  I haven't found the great contribution they make in my life, but I am thankful most of the time.  It's nice to be able to read people, sort of tell what they are thinking.  There are many times that I wish I didn't have them though.  They lead to things like migraines and severe emotional states.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TCf3z2xaaGI/AAAAAAAAAEA/WrlWyHSJ9nw/s1600/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 182px; height: 260px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TCf3z2xaaGI/AAAAAAAAAEA/WrlWyHSJ9nw/s320/images.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487627141222393954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learned that many good artists have these kind of skills.  Hence, the Vincent Van Gogh reference in the beginning of this post. He had extra-ordinary skills of perception but where did it get him... suicide at 37. He never got to see the extent of his fame. I would like to be a good artist but then I hear things like that one part says and decide to stick to something more practical even if it's depressing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-1809797945186078487?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/1809797945186078487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/06/skills-of-perception.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/1809797945186078487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/1809797945186078487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/06/skills-of-perception.html' title='Skills of Perception'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TCf3b4WSdiI/AAAAAAAAAD4/ZAaLzcrzr4w/s72-c/160px-VanGogh-starry_night_ballance1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-8747507095178932610</id><published>2010-06-27T15:28:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-27T15:51:29.502-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hug'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God'/><title type='text'>Need a Hug!</title><content type='html'>I think I need a hug but I don't have anyone to give it to me. I can hug my kitties but it's just not the same. I called a friend but she was busy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am in a bit of a funk. I think this funk has been hanging around for several days. I decided that I wanted to do nothing but rest, relax and have fun this weekend to try to recuperate a bit. Now it's Sunday and the start of the work week is closing in fast. I have so many thoughts, interests, conflicts, desires, lists of things to do that I'm dizzy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to visit my family (mother and step father) after church to be a "good" daughter... bad choice! I did have a couple things to drop off to my mom and she made me lunch but my step father was in "a mood." It wasn't terrible but I could tell he is headed toward a blow up. I got out as fast as I could. Why does he have to be so difficult? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little Part: I don't understand him at all. I don't like him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now all I want to do is binge. I ate a cookie when I got home and hoped I could stop there. If I can't find some sort of comfort I fear this day will end up in an episode.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do I do though? My therapist and a couple other people I've worked with would say something about just sitting with the feelings or feeling the pain. I feel the pain but why would anyone choose to stay in it?! That seems masochistic! I don't want to binge and purge but I don't want to be sad, disappointed, hurt, abandoned and neglected either! What's my other option?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How does a single woman, who lives alone feel loved?  I've got no one to support me right now.  I should be able to "Fully Rely On God" but does God give out hugs and rocks me to sleep, while singing and hubing my head?  No, God gives reasons why I can't have those things.  God gives lessons and opportunities for growth.  He disciplines and instructs and guides.  Where's the god who loves and is always there for me?  Where is the god of the poem, "Footsteps?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-8747507095178932610?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/8747507095178932610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/06/need-hug.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/8747507095178932610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/8747507095178932610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/06/need-hug.html' title='Need a Hug!'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-8587070704847468166</id><published>2010-06-17T22:24:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-17T22:31:57.801-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lonely'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='live'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hopeless'/><title type='text'>Lonely</title><content type='html'>I'm really lonely and I feel hopeless. I wish I could feel happy, content and useful. The truth is, I may never feel those things. The realist in me says, "Life sucks then you die." It's true.  Children starve to death, women are beat by thier husbands, good people go bankrupt and become homeless, people die of terrible diseases they don't deserve.  Who am I to deserve or even wish for anything better? So I find myself again wondering, "Why bother?" Why live?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-8587070704847468166?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/8587070704847468166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/06/lonely.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/8587070704847468166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/8587070704847468166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/06/lonely.html' title='Lonely'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-6818690762227073101</id><published>2010-06-16T20:24:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-16T20:49:57.732-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Arbonne'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lonely'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hopeless'/><title type='text'>Friends?</title><content type='html'>I'm having trouble with my friends lately.  I don't have many friends ... I can really only count 3, maybe 3 and a 1/2.  I need to keep my friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know there are always two sides to every story so I'm trying to stay open minded and give them the benefit of the doubt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm having the trouble with 3 friends.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first one (we will call Katie) I know through work and we both sell Arbonne products.  (She's like my mentor in the Arbonne business.)  I figured Katie is suppose to help me get my Arbonne business into a profitable position... I guess I was wrong.  It seems like everytime I want her help or need something from her, she's too busy.  I've asked her several times to help me with stuff but she's either too late in her response or simply says she doesn't have the time.  I think my problem is that I think of Arbonne like a sorority instead of a business.  I sort of figured I would just have parties, talk to people and make a bunch of money.  IT'S NOT WORKING!  I don't think I want to work this hard in a month to make $50!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second friend I'm having trouble with (we will call her Alison) I've known since high school.  She's a therapist now and has really been a good friend. She's made some choices I wouldn't have wished for her (like getting a giant tattoo, joining a "swingers" crowd and marrying a loser) but she's still a good friend and person.  I asked her to go to this workshop for friends and family of people who have eating disorders.  I wrote this long e-mail explaining what I wanted her to get out of it and why I thought she would benefit from it.  I even sent her a reminder.  She told me she didn't want to pay the money to hear the stuff she went to school for just over a year ago.  If she really already knows this stuff, why does she say some of the things she does to me about food???  She never called to talk to the counselor like she said she would.  This kind of stuff you don't learn in a book.  This workshop was about hearing from people who really LIVE it.  She called me on the night of the workshop to have dinner with her!!! She had totally forgotten about it.  I didn't want to go see her and I was very closed off.  I kept trying to come up with excuses but I couldn't.  I went because I think our friendship is more important and I'm trying not to continue to isolate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The third friend is someone I don't know VERY well but was starting to get close to.  She just opened her own gym and invited me to be a vendor at her Grand Opening.  I was all ready when she told me (via e-mail) that I could come to the event but not sell anything.  She just wanted me to be "entertainment."  I probably would have been okay with that if she would have told me the week before!  Instead she filled me in on all the details by text messages and e-mail.  How RUDE!  I felt rather taken advantage of and manipulated.  I've had enough of that in my life from family, I don't need it from friends!  I went to her class tonight, all pumped up and ready to tell her off if she so much as looked at me funny.  I spent a good hour rehearsing what I would say to her.  When I got there, she was fine.  I am glad I didn't "let it rip" but I don't feel much better.  Why do I feel guilty?  I didn't do anything wrong but I feel like I owe her an apology or something.  I feel as if I really did tell her off.  I feel like I'm taking advantage of her.  I REALLY don't understand that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just feel so hopeless and lonely today.  It's like I keep thinking ... life gets continually more difficult then we die....  Morbid, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where's my motivation?  Where's my purpose?  Where's my joy?  Where's the damn crown God promised as "his little princess?"  Where's my night in shining armor?  What's my fairytale ending?  Why isn't anything ever good enough?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-6818690762227073101?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/6818690762227073101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/06/friends.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/6818690762227073101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/6818690762227073101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/06/friends.html' title='Friends?'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-2333392854296556969</id><published>2010-06-12T00:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-12T00:49:09.842-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='12 Steps'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Celebrate Recovery'/><title type='text'>Celebrate Recovery</title><content type='html'>I went to Celebrate Recovery for the first time at my current church.  I've been before when I lived on Gainesville.  It was much better tonight but I'm still unsure.  I've been to OA, Celebrate Recovery, AA, EDA and I don't know of I want to open my life up to the 12 steps again.  Its almost like its own little world.  I want recovery and my way isn't working.  I'll probably go back next week. I know I have to give it at least three tries but I'm not committing beyond that yet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-2333392854296556969?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/2333392854296556969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/06/celebrate-recovery.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/2333392854296556969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/2333392854296556969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/06/celebrate-recovery.html' title='Celebrate Recovery'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-7670746386748687780</id><published>2010-06-10T18:31:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-10T20:37:25.736-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Massage'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Arbonne'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Actress'/><title type='text'>Random Thoughts</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TBFokUJgtaI/AAAAAAAAADw/Ru2-n6GgeHI/s1600/jaime_murrayg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 192px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TBFokUJgtaI/AAAAAAAAADw/Ru2-n6GgeHI/s320/jaime_murrayg.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481277194579785122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm totally straight but I think this woman is one of the most attractive women I've ever seen.  She's an actress I noticed in an episode of NCIS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_________________________________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been having trouble with the fact that I'll probably never like my job.  I wish someone would pay me to sleep!  Or... write a blog!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_________________________________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really need a massage!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_________________________________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm doing this show for Arbonne, the wonderful health and wellness company I work with but I'm worried about it.  The friend I'm doing it with isn't being very helpful and another person who sort of mentors me isn't being very helpful either! AAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_________________________________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started keeping a food journal again.  I'm not sure how long that will last or if it's worth it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_________________________________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I HAVE SO MUCH TO DO!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_________________________________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just ordered a pizza and it's soooooooooooo worth the calories!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-7670746386748687780?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/7670746386748687780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/06/random-thoughts.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/7670746386748687780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/7670746386748687780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/06/random-thoughts.html' title='Random Thoughts'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TBFokUJgtaI/AAAAAAAAADw/Ru2-n6GgeHI/s72-c/jaime_murrayg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-8296214720670262941</id><published>2010-06-09T09:21:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T09:25:42.161-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Granny'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ED'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hunger'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='meat'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='perfect eating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Spaghetti'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='satiety'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friend'/><title type='text'>Spaghetti Dinner</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TA-WEk5YE3I/AAAAAAAAADo/OwTMeAOUip8/s1600/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 124px; height: 93px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TA-WEk5YE3I/AAAAAAAAADo/OwTMeAOUip8/s320/images.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480764276901155698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow I found the motivation to exercise at home after missing my class at the gym due to traffic!  After my exercising, I had to make dinner.  I've had a plan to cook spaghetti with meat sauce for several days now and have just been too tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made a great salad (which is saying a lot since I don't normally like salad) and my spaghetti dinner.  I enjoyed making it, despite how tired I usually am at the end of the day.  I haven't cooked this dinner in probably a year but it has such a family feel to it.  I was pleased with my effort to cook a balanced meal and take care of myself.  I sat down (on the couch with the TV on) to eat my salad and already shut off.  I didn't taste it.  I didn't smell it.  I didn't even realize I was almost done with my salad (that I had actually been craving for about a week).  I started to feel cheated!  I felt like someone had stolen that salad from me.  I turned off the TV and told myself that if I wanted to enjoy my meal I was going to have to enjoy myself as company.  I knew this was fairly uncharted territory and had lead to trouble in the past but took the chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ate the rest of the salad and tasted it well enough.  There were only a couple bites left.  I was still eating sort of fast though (which may be slow for other people).  I got my spaghetti with meat sauce.  I ended up getting about 2 helpings worth b/c I REALLY don't know how to gauge the right amount of pasta.  I ended up only eating about half so it turned out okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While eating though, it was definitely a rocky path. I had to turn on music because the quiet was too much but all was good at first. It tasted good.  It was exactly what I wanted. Then I started to hear the sound that pasta makes and it started to gross me out. I tried not to listen.  I also realized that I was trying to "eat perfectly."  (You know, like a good little girl with perfect manners, a pink bow, white lace socks and rosy cheeks would eat.  The little girl my Granny raised.  I call her the Doll and she's never done anything wrong.)  I had been taking the perfect proportion of sauce to noodle in each bite.  I had been taking a bite of bread every 2nd or 3rd bite but never more.  I had been drinking my milk between every 2nd or 3rd bite as well.  So I, rather spitefully and rebelliously, took a bite of only the meat sauce and then only the spaghetti and then a giant bite of the MIDDLE of the bread (no crust).  I'd like to say then I smiled but I really felt a little silly and a little "in trouble."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started to hear the sound I was making while eating, similar to the sound of the noodles. (Is it common for people with ED to be grossed out by the sounds of eating?) Then I started to hear all the "voices" in my head.  The spaghetti meals past with family and old friends played in my head.  I had to close my eyes at times to try and focus on things like smell, taste, texture and even knowing I was eating.  Feeling things like chewing and swallowing.  How can I be soooooo easily disconnected from these things?  I never realized how VERY unaware and not present I am while eating until recently.  I had a newspaper sitting on the couch beside me so I picked up the funny section and started to read while eating.  I almost gave up and turned the TV on at one point but decided to test my "distress tolerance" level.  The anxiety continued to build as I ate and tried to stay connected while focusing my mind on specific topics.  I wanted to keep out the bad thoughts.  I started to notice that I was making those big sighs... you know how people who are full sigh.  I was much less connected at this point to myself but hanging on for dear life.  I had to stop between bites a couple times to try and listen to my body.  I figured I was at about a 7 on the hunger / satiety scale and remembered my nutritionist saying an 8 is a good ending point.  I ate a couple more bites and waited to see "where I was."  I decided a couple more bites and I would be done.  I wanted the garlic bread I had made so I ate that and finished.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time I was done, the bad thoughts were too close for comfort.  I sat for a moment in near panic as my mind scanned the time I had swallowed half a bottle of advil.  My motivation to do it again was confusing.  How could a GOOD meal cause these thoughts?  Self harm was not an option so ED jumped in and yelled "COOKIES, WE NEED COOKIES!!!!!"  Someone inside knew that was wrong too.  I was having a huge war over trying to keep this meal for me versus giving it up to ED to destroy with binging or purging.  I needed distraction.  I had spent enough time connected.  I called a friend. She wasn't there.  I dared to call someone that I've just recently met.  I needed to do the dishes and stay distracted.  This friend was there.  We chatted with small talk but I don't think she'll ever know how much she saved me tonight with simple conversations about TV shows and children and cleaning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-8296214720670262941?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/8296214720670262941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/06/spaghetti-dinner.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/8296214720670262941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/8296214720670262941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/06/spaghetti-dinner.html' title='Spaghetti Dinner'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TA-WEk5YE3I/AAAAAAAAADo/OwTMeAOUip8/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-2730609685649255551</id><published>2010-06-06T17:56:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-06T18:22:08.310-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='zombie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cramps'/><title type='text'>Pushing Through</title><content type='html'>Today's been a really hard day. My motivation level is in the negative range. I can't think of any reason why. I should be happier. I have a bunch of financial stress but it's getting better. I made an extra $20 today tutoring which should be able to get me through to my next pay check. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a difficult evening last night. I went to a movie with a friend who seemed rather antagonistic towards me and I can't figure out why. Then I had the most horrible cramps that kept me awake from about 3:30 to 6:30am. I missed church this morning to sleep in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite the depressed mood, I'm actually pretty proud of myself. I've managed to work on the Arbonne poster a bit, clean out the fridge, return something, get some gas and a newspaper, tutor one of my clients, fold 2 loads of laundry and now I'm getting ready to watch church on-line (just can't get myself to go) and clip coupons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TAwfQpcfu2I/AAAAAAAAADg/o1Xyo8IK1uA/s1600/flat+affect.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TAwfQpcfu2I/AAAAAAAAADg/o1Xyo8IK1uA/s200/flat+affect.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479789217466792802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My "zombie" part that gets stuff done and ignores the emotion has stepped in a lot this weekend. She's not the one that shuts me down, she's the one that puts one foot in front of the other. She doesn't deal with the emotion but it still weighs her down. She doesn't have a name now and I'm not sure "she's" not a "he." I'm thankful for her / him / it. I wish that part didn't have to step in though. Life isn't much fun with all these parts. It's kind of confusing. It's so unpredictable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-2730609685649255551?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/2730609685649255551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/06/pushing-through.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/2730609685649255551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/2730609685649255551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/06/pushing-through.html' title='Pushing Through'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TAwfQpcfu2I/AAAAAAAAADg/o1Xyo8IK1uA/s72-c/flat+affect.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-5125705952335964856</id><published>2010-06-04T20:32:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T21:31:28.073-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Victoria'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Little One'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='black and white movies'/><title type='text'>Little One</title><content type='html'>One of my Little Ones came out in public. I hate to say it, but I was embarrassed. I know she hears me but when I think back on what my friend must have thought.... She looked at me kinda funny and then responded to me like she would her child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: I was talking to my friend about possibly doing something later when I said, "But, I need help." It was more of a whine than a statement. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend: "What I needed help with." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: (a different part said) "I'm not sure. I can probably do the Arbonne stuff on my own. I feel like your little girl... 'Mommy, I need you.'" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shrugged it off and we went our separate ways. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the car on the way home that little one was still waiting for help. I asked her what she needed. She said she just needed to be loved. I don't know how to do that for her. I don't know what that means. She wants someone to hold her. Victoria stepped in and decided to push Mae to go to a wine tasting so we can meet a man that will hold us. I don't think that's the right answer though either. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to go out and spend money. I realized I was trying to fill a void. I'm doing to the little one what my dad (and Granny) does. She doesn't want stuff. She wants someone to love and take care of her. How do I do that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;______________________________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;Me: Little One, I love you but I don't know how to show it in a way you would like. What do you want me to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little One: I'm hungry, you haven't given me anything to eat all day. And I want to cuddle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: I can get something to eat for you and snuggle up on the couch with the cats. Is that okay?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little One: I guess. Can we color too?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TAmolLNtjKI/AAAAAAAAADY/S1gj_vlB8r4/s1600/BNGCAY4SAH0CAOH663WCAR60LAOCAMUMXVOCAZ0VEXACA9HD5IBCASBPKWLCACIBDF7CA0MPLZQCABLVHOHCA3I7LSTCAYKR1VJCA4DRJZJCAA8AMERCA5U1FI4CASSH8Z8CAX7HUFVCAO54E12CADFJFGY.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 127px; height: 96px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TAmolLNtjKI/AAAAAAAAADY/S1gj_vlB8r4/s320/BNGCAY4SAH0CAOH663WCAR60LAOCAMUMXVOCAZ0VEXACA9HD5IBCASBPKWLCACIBDF7CA0MPLZQCABLVHOHCA3I7LSTCAYKR1VJCA4DRJZJCAA8AMERCA5U1FI4CASSH8Z8CAX7HUFVCAO54E12CADFJFGY.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479095778291846306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yes. What do you want to eat?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ED: We have to eat the salad and left overs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little One: But I don't want that. Plus, Mommy says it would make us sick because it was sitting out. Can't you have that later when you buy new ones?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yes, this is your time Little One. Ed, can you give us this time and work on something else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ED: I'll still be here when you are done. Just like last night. How could you have thought we wouldn't throw that up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: We were trying to have comfort food with balance and mindfulness. This is Little One's time. She needs to eat to get big. She knows what she needs and wants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little One: My turn?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yep!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little One: Yay!&lt;br /&gt;___________________________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, we ate chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese (unfortunately they were soy chicken nuggets and whole grain mac - n - cheese).  My mannerisms even changed a little.  I found myself dancing around the kitchen like I used to as a child.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TAmoCjwIGQI/AAAAAAAAADI/xNwvAQRqZKI/s1600/13TUD00Z.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TAmoCjwIGQI/AAAAAAAAADI/xNwvAQRqZKI/s200/13TUD00Z.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479095183583222018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TAmoR3Hm1HI/AAAAAAAAADQ/TS1kcrElqPQ/s1600/stock-photo-little-girl-dancing-in-a-red-tutu-13599424.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 128px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TAmoR3Hm1HI/AAAAAAAAADQ/TS1kcrElqPQ/s200/stock-photo-little-girl-dancing-in-a-red-tutu-13599424.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479095446480016498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My decisions were made as if I was a child... my thinking pattern changed to that of a child's. I drank a coke and thought about how it's a big girl drink..... I curled up on the couch with my blankets and watched a couple black and white movies, like I used to with mom when I was little.  I had a snack of peanut butter and jelly cracker sandwiches and chocolate milk, too.  We didn't color yet but it feels like the little one is sleeping.  I will color if she wants to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-5125705952335964856?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/5125705952335964856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/06/little-one.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/5125705952335964856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/5125705952335964856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/06/little-one.html' title='Little One'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TAmolLNtjKI/AAAAAAAAADY/S1gj_vlB8r4/s72-c/BNGCAY4SAH0CAOH663WCAR60LAOCAMUMXVOCAZ0VEXACA9HD5IBCASBPKWLCACIBDF7CA0MPLZQCABLVHOHCA3I7LSTCAYKR1VJCA4DRJZJCAA8AMERCA5U1FI4CASSH8Z8CAX7HUFVCAO54E12CADFJFGY.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-3185713381532027766</id><published>2010-06-01T15:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-01T15:11:34.614-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sex and the City'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='low key'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TAVbPBjsHtI/AAAAAAAAADA/4QQuQl1wPKU/s1600/sex-and-the-city-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 164px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TAVbPBjsHtI/AAAAAAAAADA/4QQuQl1wPKU/s200/sex-and-the-city-2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477884835440369362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fun Finally&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was actually able to have some FUN this past weekend.  I figured out a little bit more what things are fun for me.  I can’t believe this is such a hard issue.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday a friend came over about 4:30 to have a couple glasses of wine, a light dinner and play with some of the great new Arbonne make-up.  Once we were all ready, we met up with several other people to see the movie “Sex and the City.”  After the movie we went to the Cheesecake Factory for appetizers and a martini.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was GREAT!  I didn’t feel out of control.  I felt appreciated and included.  I like movies and would rather do things that are “low key” then go dancing or drinking.  I just end up embarrassed, ashamed or humiliated when I try to do those things.  I am so much more of a home body.  I guess I should stop trying to be something else.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-3185713381532027766?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/3185713381532027766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/06/fun-finally-i-was-actually-able-to-have.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/3185713381532027766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/3185713381532027766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/06/fun-finally-i-was-actually-able-to-have.html' title=''/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TAVbPBjsHtI/AAAAAAAAADA/4QQuQl1wPKU/s72-c/sex-and-the-city-2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-5873287914653043691</id><published>2010-05-29T18:27:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T20:32:30.695-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='World War 3'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='impulsive'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='darkness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='transcribe'/><title type='text'>Running Away</title><content type='html'>In my last post I was contemplating running away from therapy, nutrition counseling and recovery.  I was feeling so trapped.  Trapped by work, my house and life in general.  My company isn't doing well and I'm fearful of my job.  I have no savings and paying so much each week for recovery doesn't allow me to save.  It's a scary place to be.  I also feel myself getting more and more attached to my team, which is ALSO a scary place to be.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a thought that everything would be better if I didn't have to see my team.  It was a thought that came from a completely different part of my brain.  It actually confused me.  It was as if the thought was in a different language.  The tone, urgency and everything was different about it.  It was a very compulsive thought and would not wait for contemplation.  It demanded action.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a very disconnected moment, I impulsively and reactively canceled all my appointments with my team via e-mail.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was at work and immediately got up to go to a meeting.  I had to walk through a dark room and it was as if I never left the darkness.  I was filled with shame, abandon, hopelessness, fear and desperation.  All the reasons why I wanted to stop therapy and why I wanted to continue therapy started pouring out of me.  The system began fighting each other.  I couldn't handle more than about 10 minutes of it before I went into "shutdown" or BSOD (blue screen of death).  It was World War 3 in my head.  After several days I was able to gain some insight with a dialogue session.  It's transcribed below.&lt;br /&gt;_________________________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Facilitator: Parts, I want to hear what you think about what happened this week when we decided to stop therapy.  Why did we decide that?  A few of the parts I want to hear from (but not limited to) are Victoria, The Protector and my little ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TAGuxaz3DtI/AAAAAAAAAC4/YE35ePL_n0E/s1600/Victoria"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 147px; height: 220px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TAGuxaz3DtI/AAAAAAAAAC4/YE35ePL_n0E/s400/Victoria" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476850785892896466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Victoria: We tried the therapist's way.  I don't have anything against her but why continue to do something that's not helping.  I'm trying to be practical.  I'm taking care of you.  Yes, I am the one that canceled the appointments.  We have lots to do.  Money ends.  You can't get more if it's gone.  The therapist has to make a living but we have to budget better.  Therapy and nutrition counseling is a luxury.  One we can't indulge in anymore.  We need to focus time, effort and money on the house, Arbonne, savings.  It's the right decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Facilitator: Little Ones, why are you trembling?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TAGsjDcaH5I/AAAAAAAAACw/2-0D6ApqBds/s1600/many+crying+babies.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 288px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TAGsjDcaH5I/AAAAAAAAACw/2-0D6ApqBds/s320/many+crying+babies.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476848340079091602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little Ones (many voices): She's locking us up again.  The closet isn't a good place.  The therapist has opened the door.  We don't want to go back in.  We want to see the therapist.  She listens.  We haven't had any fun before we started seeing her.  Are we bad  Why don't you want us? (crying) Why is Victoria so mean?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Facilitator: You aren't bad.  I want you but I'm confused, tired and don't know what to do.  Don't worry Little Ones.  Victoria isn't trying to hurt you.  We all have a job and we don't always want the same things.  We all had a hard few days and Victoria was taking control.  We will learn to work together more. ... I want to hear from The Protector.  What are you protecting from?  Why did you let Victoria do that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://chestofbooks.com/home-improvement/furniture/Old-Oak/images/CHEST-LOCK-PLATE-FIFTEENTH-CENTURY.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 147px; height: 220px;" src="http://chestofbooks.com/home-improvement/furniture/Old-Oak/images/CHEST-LOCK-PLATE-FIFTEENTH-CENTURY.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Protector:  Pieces of us are very hard for the little ones to be around.  The Monster is one of the very scary parts.  We all want to get threw to the Monster but we have to do it differently.  Victoria make a good decision.  I will help more but we have to contain better.  The therapist doesn't know what The Monster holds.  We have to go slow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Facilitator: How?  Can we continue with the Therapist?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Protector:  Yes, we need to continue.  I'm sorry we got hurt.  I was distracted.  We need to observe The Monster for a bit.  We can't let it take over.  The Monster holds much more than could ever fit in Pandora's box.  You don't need to be scared but you need to understand how hard this is going to be.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Facilitator: Okay.  We can't do that to the Little Ones again, though.  They won't survive much more separation / ending / divorce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Protector:  You're right.  We are not giving up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-5873287914653043691?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/5873287914653043691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/05/running-away.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/5873287914653043691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/5873287914653043691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/05/running-away.html' title='Running Away'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/TAGuxaz3DtI/AAAAAAAAAC4/YE35ePL_n0E/s72-c/Victoria' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-3152280713078172426</id><published>2010-05-26T15:44:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-26T15:45:42.585-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Therapy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='money'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='time off'/><title type='text'>What should I do?</title><content type='html'>I've been toying with the idea of "taking time off from therapy."  It sort of popped into my head and now I can't get rid of it.  I can't tell if it's a healthy thought or not.  I often run from situations when I'm just about to make or have just made some good progress.  My therapist can't help me make this decision either.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all boils down to money.  I want to have some money to get stuff done in my house so I can stop feeling like such a failure.  I can't do both.  My therapist and nutritionist cost almost $500 a month. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's such a different thought than I was having a week ago.  A week ago, I was thinking about spending MORE time and money on recovery.  This is why I feel so segmented.  It's so much unlike where I was only a few days ago.  It's like I switched my thinking entirely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you think I should do?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-3152280713078172426?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/3152280713078172426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/05/what-should-i-do.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/3152280713078172426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/3152280713078172426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/05/what-should-i-do.html' title='What should I do?'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-7855578693940660142</id><published>2010-05-21T23:34:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-01T15:01:46.622-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='taste'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ED'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sadness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Starbucks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Monster'/><title type='text'>Sadness and Taste</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_dalGCYCSI/AAAAAAAAAB4/rAw_fq5aO_M/s1600/iStockAppleBite.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_dalGCYCSI/AAAAAAAAAB4/rAw_fq5aO_M/s400/iStockAppleBite.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473943465414363426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a session with my therapist then my nutritionist today.  I had about an hour between sessions so I went to get some coffee down the street.  My therapist challenged me to drink it “mindfully.”  I figured… no problem, I like my coffee.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While at Starbucks I got something to eat as well, one of those breakfast wraps they are selling now.  I hadn’t had breakfast and always feel compelled to eat well on days I see “my people” – meaning therapist and nutritionist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was running short on time so I started to eat in the car on the way back to the office.  The first couple bites were fairly good.  Then I had this sad thought, sort of out of nowhere.  I don’t remember the thought and it was gone almost as quickly as it occurred.  I know it had something to do with missing people that are no longer in my life.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once that thought occurred, I lost all taste.  I could no longer taste the wrap.  As I continued to eat it (because that’s what us eating disordered patients have to do in order to live) the taste was not only non-existent but the texture started to gross me out.  As I ate more and more of it, the wrap became disgusting.  I also was hyper-aware of the sound my throat made as I swallowed, to the point that I would cringe when I had to swallow.  (I was only able to finish about 2/3 of it.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What does all that mean?  Is my ED that connected to sadness?  It’s as if the sadness was taken away and replaced by an aversion to eating.  Does this make sense with anyone else?  Am I a freak!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was able to process it with my nutritionist, who said that it’s all kind of connected.  She said that connecting to the eating process means having to connect to the sadness as well.  By “checking out” of the emotion, I also shut off all my food enjoyment capabilities. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking back, it’s as if The Monster had swooped in and gave me some sadness but ED pushed it aside.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My homework is to stay a bit more connected to everything without letting it take over.  Is it possible to pick one thing rather than EVERYTHING!  That seems like a lot of feeling for someone who generally stays cut off from the neck down… how do I keep all that emotion and observation from overtaking me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-7855578693940660142?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/7855578693940660142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/05/sadness-and-taste.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/7855578693940660142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/7855578693940660142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/05/sadness-and-taste.html' title='Sadness and Taste'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_dalGCYCSI/AAAAAAAAAB4/rAw_fq5aO_M/s72-c/iStockAppleBite.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-4339995055621880484</id><published>2010-05-21T22:26:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-21T23:30:10.464-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tired'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='house'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='resentful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wallpaper'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='paint'/><title type='text'>Money Pit</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_dPprJZudI/AAAAAAAAABw/vGSjSM74t-w/s1600/money%2520pit.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 228px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_dPprJZudI/AAAAAAAAABw/vGSjSM74t-w/s320/money%2520pit.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473931449467517394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been working on my home most of the day and my mood just took a major plummet! I think it probably has something to do with the minimal amount of food I've eaten today though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got all the wallpaper off the walls and finished one coat of paint on my bathroom ceiling. Unfortunately I think it's going to need a second coat. I'm DREADING doing it. I had all these great plans to paint and decorate my bathroom this weekend and all I want to do is sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep thinking things like:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why did I buy this house? All it does is take time and money. I have no one to help me, no one to share it with and no one to even visit! What's the point!? I resent buying this house. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I would feel this sense of accomplishment but I really just want to sell my house and take the money to move somewhere exciting or take a trip to Japan. I always feel so trapped. Why can't I ever simply enjoy myself? I'm tired of responsibility. I'm tired of money. I'm tired of working. I'm tired of laundry. I'm tired of cleaning. I'm tired of dishes. I'm tired of crying. I'm tired of my eating disorder. I'm tired of therapy. I'm tired of being TIRED. I'm tired of people. I'm tired of life. I'm tired of EVERYTHING!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm actually arguing with myself. I don't know if it's my parts but I caught myself actually telling myself things like "Shut up" and "Get over it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything hurts.... head, neck, back, legs, knees, face....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-4339995055621880484?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/4339995055621880484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/05/money-pit.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/4339995055621880484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/4339995055621880484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/05/money-pit.html' title='Money Pit'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_dPprJZudI/AAAAAAAAABw/vGSjSM74t-w/s72-c/money%2520pit.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-3492974622876803530</id><published>2010-05-14T22:33:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-14T23:08:36.537-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tenth avenue north'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='healing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dark'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='light'/><title type='text'>The Day God's Light Met My Dark</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S-4P6POJweI/AAAAAAAAABo/sTlfWmyzdWQ/s1600/album-cover-lightdark.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 210px; height: 210px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S-4P6POJweI/AAAAAAAAABo/sTlfWmyzdWQ/s400/album-cover-lightdark.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471328090494452194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first thought waking up, before I opened my eyes, Monday morning, May 10th, 2010 was, “I hate my life.”  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pulled myself out of bed, reluctantly lifting off the covers that swaddled me all night in unconscious freedom.  It was time to go to work, a place I think of as the outskirts of hell, most of the time.  I asked myself, “How much longer will we run on this hamster wheel of nails?”  I forced myself to ignore the thought because I had a job to do and “I’m a good girl!”  The flipside of that question was, “How will we end this life with no hope?  Pills?  Knife?  Poison?”  My mom wouldn’t survive my suicide and what would happen to my cats?  The part of me that runs on autopilot stepped in and got to work.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My back hurt that day, so at about 8am I pulled out a bottle of Ibuprofen. I poured 3 pills into my hand then froze.  Different parts of me started to debate taking the rest of the bottle.  I sat debating for a few minutes in time but hours in my head.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve been in that position several times throughout my life.  It’s extremely dark, hopeless, worthless and exhausting.  The autopilot part stepped in again and does what it does best in those situations.  I started making calls and reaching out to people who seemed like they could help.  I e-mailed my therapist and nutritionist.  I called a pastoral care counselor at my church and made an appointment.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went back to work while the debating continued on a lesser scale.  The end of the work day was approaching and it was time to make a choice.  Several activities I usually enjoy all happen at the same time Monday evenings.  I have a couple groups at church, church service and a great yoga class that I chose from weekly.  The Monster in the darkness was pulling me toward home, where I knew I would not be safe.  I found myself driving to church.  I wasn’t sure what I would do there or if I would even stay.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I talked to a friend that works in the bookstore.  My first friend at the church and a wonderful woman.  It took a few minutes but I mustered the courage to tell her about the suicidal thoughts I have been wrestling with, that have been gaining strength.  And &lt;em&gt;there it was&lt;/em&gt; … the darkness was out in the open.  I was so ashamed, embarrassed and humiliated.  How could a woman like me be so thoughtless, selfish and crazy?  What would people think about me?  Am I really a quitter or am I just tired of being a survivor?  My friend hugged me and prayed with me.  I sat in the church service, biding my time until the darkness passed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My church is amazing.  The worship leaders, band and singers are abundantly blessed. A song called “Made Me Glad” was played.  The lyrics in one part of it are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whom have I in heaven but You&lt;br /&gt;There's none I desire besides You&lt;br /&gt;And You have made me glad&lt;br /&gt;And I'll say of the Lord&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are my Shield, my Strength&lt;br /&gt;My Portion, Deliverer&lt;br /&gt;My Shelter, Strong Tower&lt;br /&gt;My very present help in time of need&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God reached down and took care of me in that moment.  It was His way of saying, “It’s okay.  I’ve been there, too, but I’m always here for you.  I am your ‘VERY present help in time of need.’  I know you are in need right now and I will take care of you.”  Pastor spoke very fitting words about family and love.  He’s a very honest, realistic and hopeful pastor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God’s light met my darkness during church and THAT is where the healing began.  God was not ashamed of me.  He did not hate me or think badly of me.  He saw my pain and held it for a bit.  He does not think I “shouldn’t feel that way” or try to get me to be happy and smile.  He simply supported the load so I could deal with a little at a time.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got home, my thoughts were clearer.  I remembered some of the tools I’ve learned for times when I get lost in the darkness.  I started booking my schedule with activities and friends.  (I usually forget I have friends so I was surprised to even realize I have more than one or two.)  I made three lists to help me on a cognitive level:  1. Things I’ve done well today  2. Things I enjoyed today  3. Things I’m grateful for.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About that time, my therapist called.  I had done much of the work already but took a few minutes to check in and see if there was anything else that would help.  She was as confused as I but probably for a different reason.  I was amazed at what God had done for me in such a short time and she was wondering why I needed to talk to her. My therapist helped me gained understanding and make the promise to go to my mom’s house if I started feeling as bad as I had that morning. Having a plan is always helpful for me.  The conversation was short and I think (hope) we were both more secure in my safety when we hung up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is where the healing BEGAN but the Monster still lurks in seas of darkness for me.  I am safe and I am determined to bring the darkness to light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The motivation to write this came from a song called Healing Begins on a CD called The Light Meets The Dark by Tenth Avenue North.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See the website and listen to the song at:&lt;br /&gt;http://www.tenthavenuenorth.com/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-3492974622876803530?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/3492974622876803530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/05/day-gods-light-met-my-dark.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/3492974622876803530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/3492974622876803530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/05/day-gods-light-met-my-dark.html' title='The Day God&apos;s Light Met My Dark'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S-4P6POJweI/AAAAAAAAABo/sTlfWmyzdWQ/s72-c/album-cover-lightdark.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-2702223604584736656</id><published>2010-05-11T23:36:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-11T23:59:08.395-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='call'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='depression'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tools'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cops'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='advil'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baker act'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='worship'/><title type='text'>A bit better</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S-onAWnXiHI/AAAAAAAAABg/RPZbWF3a7rQ/s1600/2008641682.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 156px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S-onAWnXiHI/AAAAAAAAABg/RPZbWF3a7rQ/s200/2008641682.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470227584419072114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm starting to feel a bit better. I've worked quite a bit today. I've eaten fairly normal and haven't had any suicidal thoughts today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I went to church. I worshipped God, prayed and listened to my pastor. It helped. I LOVE my church worship team! I also talked to my therapist on the phone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a bit awkward but I'm glad I called her. I think she had a long day (8 hours of sessions straight would do that to me too) before she got to call me. I'm thankful she called me though and didn't send the cops to baker act me. When half an hour had passed from the time I thought she would call I started to worry that she had given up on me and just sent someone to take me to a crisis stabilization unit. I really don't belong there! I can tell she didn't know what to tell me or maybe what I was asking. I think I needed a goal, plan, accountability. All I know is that yesterday at 8am I was ready to swallow a bottle of Advil and the only thing I knew to do was call my therapist. I don't think she likes to communicate outside of session at all. Not like other therapists, I've had. That's probably good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time I talked to my therapist, I had gone to church and made a couple other good decisions. I probably could have gone without talking to her but I'm not sure I would have got where I did without the motivation of knowing I would have to talk to her. Make sense???? I went into "emergency" depression and needed to give myself the NEED to pick myself up from it. If my therapist had heard me where I was that morning, I would have been committed. Someone inside won't let that happen. I worked out a few plans with friends and got some extra support. I even fell back on a couple tools from my "old depression days." I made some positive lists and packed my schedule to stay busy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-2702223604584736656?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/2702223604584736656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/05/bit-better.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/2702223604584736656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/2702223604584736656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/05/bit-better.html' title='A bit better'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S-onAWnXiHI/AAAAAAAAABg/RPZbWF3a7rQ/s72-c/2008641682.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-5644980152779878927</id><published>2010-05-09T20:41:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-09T22:09:46.538-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='meds'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='medicine'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drinking'/><title type='text'>Sex, Drugs and Rock n Roll</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S-dqbU8HgkI/AAAAAAAAABY/nImrcv2q0Z0/s1600/depression_3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 252px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S-dqbU8HgkI/AAAAAAAAABY/nImrcv2q0Z0/s320/depression_3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469457290174628418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started thinking about the possibility of getting back on psych meds again. They've never worked for me though.  I've been on at least 50 different medications.  It's not worth the money.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went out drinking last night and made an ass out of myself. AGAIN! I really shouldn't drink! Not to mention that the chemical depressant probably wasn't good for my ever plummeting mood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually went out to try and have FUN.  My therapist has still left me with the task of trying to have fun.  How could that be so hard?  I just don't find anything fun.  I always go overboard.  Instead of an hour of TV, which would be fun, I watch 6 hours then feel guilty.  Instead of dinner with friends I ended up waiting for my sister in the lobby of a hotel an hour away after leaving the "swingers" party upstairs then hanging my head out of my sister's car window throwing up.  How did I end up there?  I only had TWO drinks!  I don't even want to have sex with a boyfriend ... and I was basically in the middle of an orgy.  I turn into someone else when I drink. I guess it's just a lowered inhibition level but I want to have sex with people when I'm drunk.  I don't like anything to do with sex though.  I have a REAL problem with sex.  Why would I put myself in those situations when drinking?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't been able to do anything today.  Once again I got nothing done this weekend.  I have 3 day weekends and still haven't even started painting the house I moved into 9 months ago.  I am a lazy, selfish, fat, sick, useless waste of air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have to go to bed so I can continue in my hampster wheel of pain.  I think I'm destined to live in depression.  It all seems so hopeless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Character is destiny ... under the gun everyone reverts to who they are. We may hunger to map out a new course but for most of us the lines have been drawn since we were 5.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Mary Shepard from In Plain Sight&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-5644980152779878927?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/5644980152779878927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/05/sex-drugs-and-rock-n-roll.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/5644980152779878927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/5644980152779878927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/05/sex-drugs-and-rock-n-roll.html' title='Sex, Drugs and Rock n Roll'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S-dqbU8HgkI/AAAAAAAAABY/nImrcv2q0Z0/s72-c/depression_3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-3326627672345903306</id><published>2010-05-07T19:56:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-07T20:30:48.845-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='concern'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dreamer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dream'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='suicide'/><title type='text'>The Dreamer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S-SwrRfN9yI/AAAAAAAAABQ/RvGBv_D2O_Y/s1600/lucidipedia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 264px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S-SwrRfN9yI/AAAAAAAAABQ/RvGBv_D2O_Y/s320/lucidipedia.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468690105009829666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A part of mine, I call Dreamer has asked me to shart this.  I wrote it a couple months ago, March 26, 2010.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Dreamer&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I feel like I'm floating.  I'm warm and cozy and happy.  I'm thinking but not stressed out.  I'm hopeful.  I am content, still, quiet and soft.  I am safe.  I am The Dreamer.  I am ready to dream.  Things are going to work out.  Things are going to be great.  No one can hurt me.  I can do anything.  We are going to have a perfect future.  I love my house.  It's beautiful and has so much personality.  It's ready for it's make - over.  I'm going to work less, sell Arbonne full time, have gorgeous children and a loving, perfect Husband.  I'm going to be skinny, eat healthy and dance as much as I want.  I'm going to love everything that I do.  I'm going to have lots of friends and a handful of sister - friends.  I will not be stressed.  I will travel.  I will meet people easily and be very social.  I will never be rushed.  I will pray, fast and love God fully.  I will learn His word through regular personal and social bible studies.  I surround myself with positive, beautiful, warm, inviting and friendly things.  I have enough money to do anything I want.  I don't want much.  I am loved by pepole, myself and God.  God is good; all the time.  I have no pain.  I am healthy and take care of myself.  I am balanced, happy and healthy in mind, body and spirit.  I am good to people.  I help people.  I love my job.  I get to perform.  People love me.  Children want my autograph.  I am humble.  I am graceful.  I am full of energy.  I am beautiful and good.  I am kind, gentle, interesting and creative.  I paint, draw and scrapbook.  I am taken care of.  Everyone loves me.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;___________________________________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the Dreamer wanted me to remember what we want in life.  We've had a REALLY bad week.  The therapist had a serious talk with us today about suicidality.  I don't think I'm suicidal but I can understand her concern.  I'm thankful for it.  I've had some very low points recently and e-mails to her were approaching alarm.  I haven't let the Dreamer out much.  She stays hidden away because she's less useful, functionally.  She's so important though.  She's little.  I'm not sure how old.  Maybe 5 or 6.  She hasn't been tainted by the harshness of this world.  She's very pure.  I like this part.  Why do I hide it?  I think it's out of protection for it and other parts.&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S-SwZlKg0xI/AAAAAAAAABI/9xQoGFToNkI/s1600/Dreams_Come_True.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 291px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S-SwZlKg0xI/AAAAAAAAABI/9xQoGFToNkI/s320/Dreams_Come_True.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468689801054049042" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-3326627672345903306?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/3326627672345903306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/05/dreamer.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/3326627672345903306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/3326627672345903306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/05/dreamer.html' title='The Dreamer'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S-SwrRfN9yI/AAAAAAAAABQ/RvGBv_D2O_Y/s72-c/lucidipedia.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-5762747564904195942</id><published>2010-05-01T17:23:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-01T18:14:25.456-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ED'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='therapist'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ballet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='balance'/><title type='text'>Fun</title><content type='html'>I've been tasked with having fun this weekend.  It sounds simple and easy enough.  Who knew fun was so subjective!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was in my therapist's office yesterday, who gave me the "assignment," and I had trouble with it even before I left the office.  Is TV fun?  Is taking down wallpaper fun? Is finshing paperwork that's been looming over me fun?  Is seeing a ballet fun?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S9ynkdVYcPI/AAAAAAAAAAc/5eSv0L9GrB0/s1600/gala-giselle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 218px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S9ynkdVYcPI/AAAAAAAAAAc/5eSv0L9GrB0/s320/gala-giselle.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466428292512379122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't even know what FUN is anymore?  How can that be?  Everything has been distorted.  It's just like food.  One cookie is okay: tastes good, provides some enjoyment, etc.  Twenty cookies bring on emotional and physical pain. This would lead me to believe balance is key.  Balance is NO EASY feat.  I kept asking my therapist what could be considered fun?  I used TV as the example.  I often feel like TV is a waste but I spend so much time in front of it.  TV provides a much needed break at times, as well as some entertainment but when I've been sitting there for hours I feel physical and emotional pain.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ended up going to the ballet last night.  I enjoyed it but for me it's like an alcoholic taking the first drink.  One is never enough.  I always want more.  I miss dancing more than any other loss in my life.  Watching ballet leads me to want to dance again and then I can never get enough.  But it IS fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I slept VERY late, mostly because I was up surfing the web about dancing.  I decided to watch "a little" TV before getting my day started.  That was almost 6 hours ago and now I've given up.  I have soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo much I need to do.  It's another wasted weekend.  Mom wants me to come over for dinner but I don't feel like I deserve it.  I feel fat, useless, unworthy, tired, gross.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The need to not feel like this drives me to constantly go, go, go. Then I get overly tired and back to this spot or I give up entirely because I can't seem to make any difference anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in a very sad place right now.  I am having immense trouble with my parts, relationships, ED.  I don't want to promote this pain to anyone reading.  The goal of this blog and in my life is recovery, health, balance.  I'm struggling with all that myself right now though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-5762747564904195942?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/5762747564904195942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/05/fun.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/5762747564904195942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/5762747564904195942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/05/fun.html' title='Fun'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S9ynkdVYcPI/AAAAAAAAAAc/5eSv0L9GrB0/s72-c/gala-giselle.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-4325950169635529020</id><published>2010-04-29T21:28:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-29T21:28:13.207-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I&amp;#39;m not doing well right now. If ne1 reads this I would like to hear from u. I&amp;#39;m in a really hard place now. I feel like I&amp;#39;m in a hamster wheel lined with nails&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-4325950169635529020?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/4325950169635529020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/i-not-doing-well-right-now.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/4325950169635529020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/4325950169635529020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/i-not-doing-well-right-now.html' title=''/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-833049131879885183</id><published>2010-04-28T22:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-28T22:23:53.901-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='meeting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Victoria'/><title type='text'>Victoria</title><content type='html'>Victoria came through very strongly for me today. We'd had enough in this one meeting.  Two co-workers were actually mocking me!  How childish! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I work in a terrible environment where no one works together. I HATE it!  As an example of how high stress this job is, we hired someone to be the Executive Office Assistant this week. She started Monday and then never came back from lunch on Tuesday! No call or anything. Just decided it was too much for her.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So... In this meeting where once again, I'm getting my tasks reprioritized and given more work to do then humanly possible with NO appreciation for what I AM and HAVE been doing.  When they started making fun of me I was shocked.  I didn't even understand what they were doing at first because it was so off the wall.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got so frustrated I almost started to cry.  I left the meeting and tried to calm down but was so angry I was shaking.  That's when Victoria stepped in. She REALLY CAN be scary sometimes.  She's completely ruthless.  She has no time for fuck ups or wishy wasby delays.  She MOVES.  She thinks faster, walks faster, talks faster.... She's VERY much in control and has no fear.  She's how I made it through today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-833049131879885183?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/833049131879885183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/victoria.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/833049131879885183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/833049131879885183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/victoria.html' title='Victoria'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-3574141253836868722</id><published>2010-04-27T19:52:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-27T20:13:17.350-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ghost'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='frozen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='emotion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='feeling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='monster'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='feelings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the facilitator'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='intense'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='freeze'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='little parts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mae'/><title type='text'>The Ghost and The Monster</title><content type='html'>I wrote something at work in the "midst" of this really intense feeling I get.  I was trying to figure out what's going on with myself.  (All names have been changed or taken out.)  It's kind of a "stream of consciousness" piece so may be hard to follow.&lt;br /&gt;_______________________________________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;    The Ghost and The Monster&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    This haunting feeling I get is seeping in several times a day.  It’s now been attached to my therapist.  I HATE it!  It’s one of those emotions that stops me.  But it’s not the emotion.  It’s got to be covering something else up. I really want it to step aside.  I don’t understand it and it’s not useful.  I think it’s mainly attached to things that are related to recovery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    A therapist I saw years ago who I tried to be friends with&lt;br /&gt;    Old EDA Sponsor, Old EDA Sponsee and AA or EDA meeting&lt;br /&gt;    A Friend who "dropped" me&lt;br /&gt;    The therapist I saw before my current one - who was "difficult"&lt;br /&gt;    A therapist I saw a couple times, related to the last one&lt;br /&gt;    My nutritionist  (less so --- wish I knew why)&lt;br /&gt;    My current therapist&lt;br /&gt;    Renfrew (people and place)&lt;br /&gt;    New Beginnings (old building)&lt;br /&gt;    Anyone I was in groups with&lt;br /&gt;    Certain websites (Castlewood, Renfrew, Pro-Ana / Mia)&lt;br /&gt;    Sometimes a certain co-worker&lt;br /&gt;    Starbucks&lt;br /&gt;    Book stores&lt;br /&gt;    Church --- some places inside the buildings (one office, the cry room, sometimes the book store, eating lunch at Nature’s Table, GriefShare, etc.) and people (bookstore volunteers)&lt;br /&gt;    Money     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    I’m really worried because it’s reached my current therapist to the point that I’m checking my e-mail every 5 minutes and trying to guess her schedule to see if I will “get” to see her longer on Friday. Do I need to see her longer? Yes / No.  Do I need therapy at all? No ---- no one NEEDS therapy.  It’s a luxury. But I DO feel like I NEED it.  That’s a problem!  I feel like The Ghost / Monster needs to be stopped, leashed, caged, taught a lesson or just killed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    It happens every time.  I used to think it was my neediness and dependence on someone.  Is it the attachment issues?  It’s obsessive and ugly!  It’s black and huge!  It’s gaining strength and power.  It seeps into almost every aspect of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    It seems to be some sort of projection or transference.  I’m sorry to the people it lands on.  I know it doesn’t have anything to do with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    It starts in my abdomen but radiates all over my body.  It’s very similar to anxiety and when it starts I think that’s what it is until it grows big again.  It eats me up.  I start by trying to calm down, sort my thoughts out and other things that generally work for anxiety but it never works.  It grows to the point that I feel my heart beating, my limbs become cold, my breathing is shallow (quick or slow) and I’m obsessed with two thoughts.  The first usually settles on something to do with wanting to leave / run from whatever I’m doing and live at a treatment center or do some sort of intensive treatment without having to work.  The second thought is basically, “We’re Fucked!” because that can never happen again.  Somewhere mixed in, is a thought that knows it wouldn’t work anyway. (It never has.)   I end up frozen, eyes glazed over, with that rocking sensation and my mind wonders, spins, stops, takes on a life of it’s own.  I am desperate and hopeless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Is this my way of saying I don’t want to grow up?  Am I really just that immature?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    I’m soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo tired.  I’m losing.&lt;br /&gt;____________________________________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;(that was the end of my thoughts then a couple parts came out)&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little part said in response: &lt;/span&gt; Please don’t attack The Monster --- I hate it but … better not to be provoked.  I don’t know how to make it go away though.  I don’t know how to ask you to deal with it b/c it’s too much for me.  I’m VERY afraid of this part (I guess it’s a part...).  It’s RUINED so many things in our life.  Please make it go away.  Please!  Please help us escape it! Help!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Facilitator: &lt;/span&gt;I know we have to deal with this.  Leaving it alone and running from it is only giving it more space.  It’s like the abuser who sleeps.  I have concern for the little ones.  (We haven’t distinguished the different little parts much at this point.) Whether it goes away or becomes something else or calms down is irrelevant.  We know it has to do something but are very conflicted on what or how.  All we know is that it hurts us.  We trust you, my Therapist.  You need to be careful though because it’s getting bigger and has shadowed you.  We thank you for ALL you do, even the boundaries you put in place &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;that we don’t like – and may not admit again any time soon (That last part was from Mae).&lt;/span&gt;  We know that broken boundaries fuel what has now gone from The Ghost to The Monster.  I am not sure how or why we know that but it’s true.  The Monster is very much enmeshed with most of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;An observer type part or reporter: &lt;/span&gt; The work bell rang and I slipped right into, Mae.  Bubbly, helpful, productive, friendly, brilliant…. I’m very distanced from her though.  She’s like a mask.  She acts rather independently and pretty “mechanical.”  She’s got to be a performer.  I like her a lot but with her often follows numbness or emptiness and more of that rocking / tingly sensation. (It’s similar to the headaches I get that don’t have the pain.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s actually kind of nice to be able to see them (my parts) again.  When Dad was here I couldn’t tell.  I have no idea if knowing them is good or bad or helpful or hurtful in my mental health recovery stuff but this is just how we work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-3574141253836868722?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/3574141253836868722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/ghost-and-monster.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/3574141253836868722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/3574141253836868722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/ghost-and-monster.html' title='The Ghost and The Monster'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-7647289104253561478</id><published>2010-04-26T13:45:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-26T13:54:39.912-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='productive'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tv'/><title type='text'>TV Time</title><content type='html'>I'm feeling the desire to get rid of my cable.  I waste sooooooo much time zoning out in front of the TV!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S9XTGpUOgBI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Wwg94yH3NFE/s1600/poltergeist-theyre-here.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 256px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S9XTGpUOgBI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Wwg94yH3NFE/s320/poltergeist-theyre-here.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464505834007330834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seem's so familiar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it's sort of one of my coping mechanisms when things get crazy though....  I really want to be more productive and hope that if I don't have TV then I won't waste so much time.  I would read more, work on my house more, etc..... At this point it's only in the contemplative stage but moving up in the process quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could save a little money a month, too.  I would want to learn how to download certain shows though, too....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-7647289104253561478?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/7647289104253561478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/tv-time.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/7647289104253561478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/7647289104253561478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/tv-time.html' title='TV Time'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S9XTGpUOgBI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Wwg94yH3NFE/s72-c/poltergeist-theyre-here.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-1868370733296889221</id><published>2010-04-25T20:43:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-25T21:02:33.514-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/many%20faces" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i234.photobucket.com/albums/ee196/huckababy49/Elizabeth%20Montgomery/lizcoloredPSD.jpg" border="0" alt="Many Faces of Elizabeth Montgomery Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, is full of more restless-ness.  I had a slip and I'm not sure what to think about it.  I'm getting ready to listen to Jen Nardozzi from Renfrew on the radio so I guess I'm not ready to give up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really hate it when my dad visits....  :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-1868370733296889221?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/1868370733296889221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/sunday.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/1868370733296889221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/1868370733296889221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/sunday.html' title='Sunday'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i234.photobucket.com/albums/ee196/huckababy49/Elizabeth%20Montgomery/th_lizcoloredPSD.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-6695884323957054237</id><published>2010-04-25T00:06:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-25T20:46:52.398-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='attic'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pandora'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hypnosis'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kidnapped'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='energy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='unique'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='box'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='decision'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='voices'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='exhausting'/><title type='text'>Restless</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S9TiZiV39WI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rDxQWXRuunk/s1600/MPDMIRROR1.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S9TiZiV39WI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rDxQWXRuunk/s320/MPDMIRROR1.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464241176250414434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's late and I'm restless.  I know this feeling.  It's my parts all fighting for the front.  Why do I have to DEAL with this?  Why can't my thoughts just be my own?  Why must they come from different faces, voices and attitudes?  I like being able to get different perspectives of myself but it's exhausting!  I just want to be able to function and have one voice in my head.... one opinion, one attitude, one self!  I want to be able to make decisions without thinking in 100 different directions.  I want to be able to have balanced emotion, reactions and energy levels.  I want normalcy.  YES!  I want to be normal, even if normal means cookie cutter and the SAME as everyone else!  I used to like being different and wanting attention for my uniqueness but not now!  Not when it means I'm up at 12:11am because pieces of me are arguing in some far off imaginary place of my psyche so loudly that I can do nothing but stare into space and let them go at it.  I'm wired!  I have too much potential energy without any kinetic energy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In physics, Potential energy is energy stored within a physical system as a result of the position or configuration of the different parts of that system. It has the potential to be converted into other forms of energy, such as kinetic energy, and to do work in the process.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The above definition came from Logic, I think.  Or another part that strives to be perfect and precise.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm scared to let them all talk for some reason.  I think that might help them feel heard and understood but I just don't have the energy to listen.  I REALLY want to ignore them but how can I?  They are me..... and if they ARE me why don't we all think the same?  What will they show me?  When will I get help understanding them?  Who can actually help me in this journey?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm just babbling.  I am going to try to turn off by listening to some music.  It's too late to open all this up.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of opening up stuff... Pandora just slid into my head.  Have I told you about her?  She holds her box in the attic of my life.  Is it possible that she only exists to hold that box shut?  What have I done by taking it away from her?  Where my other parts really trying to help her by sharing the load?  She's a bit panicked and wants to go back to the way it was.  Could her creation also coincide with her "death?"  What if she has no other function?  I know what's in the box and don't know why she's coming to mind with the visit of my dad.... She holds the rape in that box.  I don't think my dad ever hurt me like that.  But why is Pandora younger than I was when that incident took place? Why is she more of a zombie than a person?  Why don't I trust any men?  Is that true?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so confused!  I think my dad may have put me in an attic once, when he kidnapped me.... maybe that's her connection.  I wish I could remember that time when he kept me from my mom.  It's such a mystery in the family.  It's such a cover up and not talked about.  I have no recall of it.  How could I have said I was kept in an attic but then find out that house had no attic?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if hypnosis would help us share all the thoughts and memories among my parts.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too many questions for 12:33 am.  God, please take it away for tonight. Give us rest and energy to clean the house tomorrow!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-6695884323957054237?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/6695884323957054237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/restless.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/6695884323957054237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/6695884323957054237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/restless.html' title='Restless'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S9TiZiV39WI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rDxQWXRuunk/s72-c/MPDMIRROR1.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-1303666605380278762</id><published>2010-04-24T15:50:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-24T16:51:39.327-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='manipulative'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='irritated'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='driving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='manipulation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='odd'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='irritation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Taco Bell'/><title type='text'>We're Back</title><content type='html'>My father left town yesterday night.... it made an entire week he was here visiting.  It was getting pretty bad.  He's a VERY odd man!  He's manipulative, immature, irresponsible and just plain out of touch with reality.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have lived with the FEAR of having to support him in the near future since I was 10 years old.  I really don't know another option, since he is not married, has no other children and absolutely NO savings.  Just in the last week, he turned my life upside down.  How can I possibly have him live with me for good!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My house is still a disaster from his stay here but I haven't had the energy to clean up.  I keep looking around and reliving all the crazy shit he said or did.  I REALLY need to clean it all up.  How is it that a grown man can't clean up after himself?  I mean... TRASH is everywhere!  Who can't even throw TRASH away?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parts were not safe with him here.  I tried to bring Logic out to deal with his illogical-ness but despite her strength in supporting my other parts, she's not a "front runner."  The stronger parts (Victoria, The Protector, etc.) will take cues from her but they are the real ones in control.  This past week though, I have not really been able to differentiate between my parts.  There has been this general haze of dissociation surrounding all my thoughts.  (My therapist believes that is probably a good thing right now.)  I've been very robotic and "fenced."  One might call that closed off but it's a little different.  I've been in survival mode and whatever part or parts that operate there just kind of put the other ones in a cage and set them to sleep so we don't get hurt.  Can anyone relate to what I'm saying?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've felt much chaos among myself and my parts.  The parts that are easily hurt couldn't be fully protected in that cage so they would randomly awaken and cry out from the sting of my father's actions and words.  That's when the system would go into panic and safety mode.  A couple times the system wasn't ready for Dad's blow and the angry parts would retaliate.  The anger is getting stronger.  I can tell because I would never have talked back to my dad before.  Or maybe the moderator is getting more tired or some part has decided not to close the anger off.  Either way, there were at least 3 times that I YELLED at my dad.  Then the guilt sets in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as my ED symptoms go, I gave in a few times.  It was very impulsive.  When I found myself with a moment to purge (when dad was far enough away to not hear) I did.  I felt better.  It intensified the fog of numbness and that was okay for then.  It was not a good time to FEEL.  I'm not happy with these slips but I understand the need my system had to numb out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three incidents stick out in my mind from his visit.  They were all small and seemingly insignificant by my brain has decided to recall them over and other. &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt; The Car, The Restroom and The Irritation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Car:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was driving in a parking lot of a big store (it may have been Target).  My dad was sitting next to me.  (First mistake.... apparently my dad is the best driver in the world so he feels the need to critique... I mean teach... me how to drive.)  ;)  I am not a confident driver.  I hesitate and wait much more than just going for it.  I had come to the end of a lane and was trying to pull out and drive to the right.  A large truck had decided to turn into the lane I was pulling out of.  That moment happened when neither driver could decide if we would both fit without hurting the other car.  I stopped.  The truck stopped.  My dad yelled!  He said, "Go go go go go, you need to go, go go go, he wants you to go first.  You can't stop like that. GO!!!"  I froze.  My dad's relentless words and demands had caused my system to panic.  Someone inside me yelled, "STOP DOING THAT! DON'T TELL ME HOW TO DRIVE. DO YOU WANT TO DRIVE?" My dad said nothing.  I drove on.  We were both silent.  I don't remember where we went next but it was awkward.  We both acted like it hadn't happened.  After that he was less opinionated on my driving for about 2 days.... a lot of good that outburst did me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;The Restroom:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, I had been driving my dad around all day and most of the week, as he did not know the area.  We got to Walmart, which is NOT my favorite place to go, simply due to the crowds I generally encounter.  (There always seem to be people in my way or people I am in the way of and they aren't generally nice about it.)  We had to return a couple items.  As we stood in line at customer service, I decided to go to the restroom.  It was about 5 feet from where we stood.  I told my dad I would be right back.  He said, "Well, where will I meet you?  I'll be done here in a few minutes and it will take you at least 10 minutes, probably more, before you get back."  I thought, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;REALLY?  Are you kidding?  You can't let me pee, while we've been doing EVERYTHING you want to do? &lt;/span&gt; Instead I said, "We can just meet right here."  He said, "But I could go ahead and get a few things instead of wait.  What if you can't find me?" I thought, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;What!? Can't you stand still for 5 minutes? Are you completely disregarding my request to meet here?&lt;/span&gt;  Instead I said, "If you get done before me and I can't find you.  I'll just wait here."  How disrespectful!  I think the emotion I felt was hurt and maybe unappreciated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Irritation:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Driving, yet again.  (You should probably know that I really don't like to drive in general.  I avoid it whenever I can.  My dream is to have a chauffeur.)  I also had not eaten even close to enough food for my day up to that point.  It was 3pm and I had only had a cliff bar.  That's about 2 meals less than my body needs at that time of day.  (My father doesn't eat....  Or rather, he eats almost nothing all day until he binges at night.)  I had been craving Taco Bell (a guilty pleasure).  I had just driven my dad to THREE places to try and find these special oranges that he likes.  We struck out every time.  I was on my way to Taco Bell at this point.  I had already started planning a binge / purge and was plenty anxious about having to do that in front of my dad or figuring out how to hide it.  I got in this tangled mess of driving where I had to make about 3 u-turns (something that totally pisses me off when driving).  Due to my blood sugar extreme low, I got VERY irritated.  I was on the edge of completely blowing up.  I was talking about what was irritating me, I think, but I don't remember what I said.  Then my dad said, "You know if you would breath more you wouldn't get so angry. Just a couple deep breaths and it will all just melt away."  I thought, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Is this really the time for that dad!?  You had to bring that up now!?  I'm actually irritated because you haven't let me eat all day and by blood sugar is dangerously low for the exercising and activity of carting your ass around all day.  That's like telling a person in the midst of a heart attack they should exercise more instead of calling 911!!!!! &lt;/span&gt; I said nothing. I continued on my drive to Taco Bell.  As the planning of my binge became entirely impossible with my Dad right there, I got even more irritated.  I said, "I don't want Taco Bell anymore." I turned around and drove home.  In silence.  I made something at home to eat then fell asleep.  I let dad pack up and do what he needed to do without my help. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've made the choice to love my dad and continue in relationship with him but days like yesterday really make me re-evaluate.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry if I have any readers that have been waiting for more information.  Thank you for your patience.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-1303666605380278762?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/1303666605380278762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/were-back.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/1303666605380278762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/1303666605380278762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/were-back.html' title='We&apos;re Back'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-5373864743303753883</id><published>2010-04-18T22:23:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-18T22:27:18.382-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Almost Died Today</title><content type='html'>I almost died today!  Of all things I choked on some vitamins I was taking.  I had to administer a self Heimlich maneuver and all .... can you imagine what the paper headline would say:  "Young Single Woman Living Alone Died While Trying To IMPROVE Her Health With Vitamin Mishap"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing else today.... That was enough.  Dad is still here so it's not safe yet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-5373864743303753883?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/5373864743303753883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/almost-died-today.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/5373864743303753883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/5373864743303753883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/almost-died-today.html' title='Almost Died Today'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-6979161431622792276</id><published>2010-04-17T01:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-17T01:55:35.612-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Safe'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Visitor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Logic'/><title type='text'>Not Safe</title><content type='html'>My Dad is visiting. He's asleep in the other room.  I don't feel safe enough to post much.  I'm in survival mode so I'm not totally sure what's going on with me right now anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I yelled at my Dad today. I was tired of him telling me what to do. It shut him up but I KNOW I will pay for that later.  Some parts are rebelling while others are totally complying.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My therapist suggested that I try to give Logic a voice while he is here.  Logic is a part of mine.  It sounds good in theory but Logic isn't a part that acts without being ALLOWED.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all for today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-6979161431622792276?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/6979161431622792276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/not-safe.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/6979161431622792276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/6979161431622792276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/not-safe.html' title='Not Safe'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-1047482906757476791</id><published>2010-04-14T21:19:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T21:47:57.660-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hair cut'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='name'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='meeting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mae'/><title type='text'>MAE</title><content type='html'>The craziest thing happened today. I recently got a hair cut. Not your average trim, either. I got 12 inches cut off and donated it to locks of love. So everyone at work is shocked. It doesn't seem to have phased me. It's actually hard for me to understand why people are freaking out so much. When Victoria is present, she totally doesn't get it and has said a couple cold things to people. She's relying on other parts to respond to the emotion of a hair cut....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I was sitting in this meeting today. I wasn't prepared with my normal reports at all because there is nothing going on with the program right now. I walked in late, with no computer, clip board or even a pen. I sat down, reclined a bit and just observed. Victoria is generally the part that works in this meeting.... very organized, prepared, hard nosed, lay it on the line kind of personality. EVERYONE NOTICED THE CHANGE! Someone commented on my hair again and said something about how it's a new me. Then they started talking about how different I was and in what way. Then they gave me a new name. Now, it was all in good fun and joking around but they couldn't have been more right! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It WAS a VERY different part of me. They all decided to give me the name Mae (pronounced May). I think it's suiting for this part. I'll stick with it. Here are some of Mae's character traits:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-She's relaxed but poised.&lt;br /&gt;-She's a good business woman and still very much in control and in charge on the things she knows best.&lt;br /&gt;-She's smart and contemplative but also quick with decisions and opinions, like Victoria.&lt;br /&gt;-She's observant and quiet.&lt;br /&gt;-She's extremely confident but not cocky (like Victoria can be).&lt;br /&gt;-She doesn't take shit from people and deflects insults with sarcasm instead of anger or other insults.&lt;br /&gt;-She can laugh and has a great sense of humour.&lt;br /&gt;-Everyone liked her ... much more than a couple other parts that have been in that meeting before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's AWESOME! I don't operate from her much but I wish I did. How did she get to be so calm and collected? She would be GREAT in social settings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who would have thought that my co-workers (who nothing about my parts or issues) would give one of them a name ... and such a fitting name! I want more of her around!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The oldest memory I have of this part is probably from around high school age (17ish). When I would visit my Dad in another state, I would sort of turn into someone else. These are the times I had a good deal of fun and people were attracted to me much more than other parts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-1047482906757476791?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/1047482906757476791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/mae.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/1047482906757476791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/1047482906757476791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/mae.html' title='MAE'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-7599837530660092049</id><published>2010-04-13T19:20:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-13T19:32:58.795-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Richard Schwartz'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hurting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ED'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mark Schwartz'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Castlewood Treatment Center'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='internal family system'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='internal'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='system'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hurt'/><title type='text'>Castlewood Treatment Center</title><content type='html'>I'm drawn to Castlewood Treatment Center. I can't help it! I hate this desire but it seems like such a haven for us. My parts need help! They are a mess and so new at all this. I feel so chaotic most of the time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I KNOW I would learn soooooooo much from time spent there but treatment is ubber expensive and then there are all the bills I would still have to pay while away. I have the urge to MAKE my eating disorder (ED) REALLY bad so that I would HAVE to go into treatment. I know that's probably telling me something else about my stress level or some other part needing to talk but I really just want to go. I actually have dreams of just jumping in my car and driving to Castlewood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not eating dinner!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What would that really do though? All my problems would be here when I get back. Not to mention bank foreclosure, collections and no job. I'm just about to pay off my other two treatment centers that did nothing for me. The only way I could convince myself to go is if I was dangerously ill. I'm not, though. Damn!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm hurting a lot today.  I'm frozen.  I need to do so many things but my options seem to be: act out on my ED, go to bed or blog...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-7599837530660092049?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/7599837530660092049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/castlewood-treatment-center.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/7599837530660092049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/7599837530660092049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/castlewood-treatment-center.html' title='Castlewood Treatment Center'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-6545963299187584257</id><published>2010-04-13T13:44:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-13T14:02:09.470-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='high stress'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dad issues'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='panic'/><title type='text'>FREAKOUT / SHUTDOWN</title><content type='html'>First, a little background:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My father is a very damaged person. He's had a lot of weird shit happen in his life. Because of that, he's kind of a toxic person. I love him and have made the decision (several times) to continue in a relationship with him, despite the many friends and therapists who advise against it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's coming in town this weekend. He's scheduled to be here the same day I have therapy. For some reason that totally messes with my head and emotions. Today I talked to my therapist to figure out what to do. Do I skip a week? (Not what I want to do since the intense session last week.) Do I ask to see her for a longer period in order to have cushion room to ease in and out of the harder topics? Do I reschedule for a different time of the day or day of the week?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ended up talking to her while at work to figure this out. We decided to have an extended period. Not good on the budget but worth the progress I've been making. I work in a high stress and no privacy job. After the call here's what I "felt." I could barley function so I sat at my desk and typed so it would look like I was working.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soooooo stressed out my body is shaking, my heart is going to beat out of it’s chest, can’t see well, don’t want to breath, diarrhea, thirsty, don’t want to move… obviously can’t type well. &lt;em&gt;(I made all sorts of typos -- fixed as of now.)&lt;/em&gt; Every muscle is tense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just got off the phone with Therapist. I don’t like having to talk to her at work. I don’t feel in control. How can I go from being in charge in the kick ass meeting to not knowing when to schedule an appointment? Back and forth, back and forth…..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Face hot, hands cold&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Staring&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drifting away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feel like I’m going to throw up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brain not working&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who is this person?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What am I scared about? Dad? Having him here all together or having to see therapist while he’s here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Impending doom … but from what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate this anxiety…………………. It needs to stop&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are no safe places!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Job --- too much to do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I wrong? Am I messing up? Mike’s here. I have performance review Thursday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leave me alone, leave me alone, leave me alone, leave me alone, leave me alone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hear everything&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Want to be smaller --- disappear&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just want to die&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things don’t seem real --- head hurts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m moving so slow and don’t know how I’m moving at all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not an option&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hungry … starving …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Screaming inside and crying&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What’s wrong?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hurt. I’m sad. I can’t deal. I need a break. Lord, help me. Take me away. Save me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is a healthy baby girl. ----- episode of House in my head and pictures of myself as a child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have to eat soon… can barley move, don’t want anything … can’t burden work friend with this. &lt;br /&gt;Where do I go? What do I do? I can’t move. I want to die. I want to hide. Leave me alone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have to take a pill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last one……….ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything hurts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were several "voices" or parts speaking in that mess but I have little understanding at this point who is who. They were going in and out or maybe there was just one that deals with that panicked state.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-6545963299187584257?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/6545963299187584257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/freakout-shutdown.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/6545963299187584257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/6545963299187584257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/freakout-shutdown.html' title='FREAKOUT / SHUTDOWN'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-8977455646439403422</id><published>2010-04-12T23:05:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-12T23:05:38.010-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Its a feeling I&amp;#39;ve had before some of my suicidal gestures.  Maybe its abandonment. My PARTS can&amp;#39;t leave me, can they?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-8977455646439403422?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/8977455646439403422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/its-feeling-i-had-before-some-of-my.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/8977455646439403422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/8977455646439403422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/its-feeling-i-had-before-some-of-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-5187004296127322498</id><published>2010-04-12T23:03:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-12T23:03:53.464-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It doesn&amp;#39;t feel good though. They went back into a cave or are just ignoring me. I feel very confused and depressed. I also feel kind of empty and VERY anxious.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-5187004296127322498?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/5187004296127322498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/it-doesn-feel-good-though.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/5187004296127322498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/5187004296127322498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/it-doesn-feel-good-though.html' title=''/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-5457240216824173862</id><published>2010-04-12T23:01:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-12T23:01:31.058-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My parts aren&amp;#39;t &amp;quot;around&amp;quot; today. I can tell they are still working because I&amp;#39;ve been so moody but it&amp;#39;s as of they are all behind the scenes. They have retreated.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-5457240216824173862?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/5457240216824173862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/my-parts-aren-today.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/5457240216824173862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/5457240216824173862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/my-parts-aren-today.html' title=''/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-6564765668710128167</id><published>2010-04-11T20:06:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-11T20:09:10.072-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='help'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='church'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pastor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='christian'/><title type='text'>Note to Pastor</title><content type='html'>Below is a note I wrote to my Pastor today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pastor&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I know you get tons of e-mail so I'm honored and glad you're reading mine.  I'll be as to the point as I can.  We've met a few times in the church lobby.  Most of the time when I have some burning question that comes from a very hurt place.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I LOVE your family moments.  For whatever reason, the family moments I remember with my earth family have not been positive, nurturing or safe.  I grew up in a Catholic family with an Irish influence.  The first time I realized that you pray for the church as they process to communion, I wept.  I couldn't believe a pastor would pray for a congregation when "grace" had always been another form of applying guilt to the misbehaving family member.  Meals have always been rough.  We ALWAYS ate together but never communed.  Not surprisingly I developed an eating disorder.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I've also been diagnosed with half the disorders in that DSM book.  I don't give them much attention if I can help it.  There's been adjustment disorder, panic disorder, eating disorder, PTSD.... you name it.  I know THAT's not who I AM.  As you've been saying, "I am ... not myself."  I sure HOPE not.  I'm a very lonely person.  I have tons of "issues" but there is one that has been weighing heavier lately.  I am a survivor of "some bad things."  Things that aren't important in detail, except to say they were EVIL.  God could NOT have been there.  I broke and part of me died because of "those things."  I continue to ask the age old question ... Why?  Could God REALLY have engineered and let those things happen?  How can I trust, love and believe a God who abandoned me then?  I've heard all the stories and read several books on this topic but it just doesn't fit.  I don't want to depend on people for the things God can only provide but neither people NOR God have proven dependable.  I struggle daily, hourly and sometimes breath to breath with this insecurity and pain.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I walked forward today and recited my wedding vows with God.  I cried.  Not for joy but fear and loss.  Will that be the only time I say those?  I don't want to hurt other people with my neediness.  I desperately want to believe He has my best interests in mind and loves me and can provide.  I've been a Christian for 12 years (from the age of 16).  I volunteer in the book store and am a 1st responder but am I a hypocrite?  I tell people things like "God is always with us" and "God will always take care of our needs" but I don't believe He does.  I hurt more now than I may have ever hurt.  I can't read my bible lately because I'm just so mad.  I read the words and part of me thinks "Whatever.... maybe that works for someone!"  I don't want to but how can I not?  My life is mixed with periods of super productivity then complete frozen, inability to function.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I've done next to nothing to try to stay connected or find companionship because it never works out.  I want desperately not to be alone.  I want to be married and have children but at the same time I avoid relating.  After so many years of falling when the bottom finally drops out, I don't think I will live through another abandon.  I keep saying I need to do my own healing before I can be in a relationship of anything deep (man or woman, romantic or not) but when does that ever happen?  I try to put God first and rely on Him alone but then life happens --- I'm an engineer working in a very demanding and terrible environment, and then there's my health and owning a home.  I need some practical help here with priorities, maybe.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I don't really know what I need.  I think I need hope, love and something to hold on to that doesn't make life harder.  I need a BREAK but from what ... life?  Please provide any advice you can.  Sorry it was so long... I guess "to the point" and emotional pain don't really go together.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Tired, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-6564765668710128167?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/6564765668710128167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/note-to-pastor.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/6564765668710128167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/6564765668710128167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/note-to-pastor.html' title='Note to Pastor'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-3606180562677748581</id><published>2010-04-11T20:00:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-11T20:00:18.010-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Its so bad I can bairly do what I need to. Don&amp;#39;t worry, its no where close to that show Horders. Its just cluttered.  I can&amp;#39;t get myself to clean.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-3606180562677748581?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/3606180562677748581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/its-so-bad-i-can-bairly-do-what-i-need.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/3606180562677748581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/3606180562677748581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/its-so-bad-i-can-bairly-do-what-i-need.html' title=''/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-1873743398826061639</id><published>2010-04-11T19:58:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-11T19:58:53.757-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My house is more a mess now then it&amp;#39;s been in a long time.  I wonder if that had anything to do with Victoria&amp;#39;s &amp;quot;coming out.&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-1873743398826061639?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/1873743398826061639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/my-house-is-more-mess-now-then-it-been.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/1873743398826061639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/1873743398826061639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/my-house-is-more-mess-now-then-it-been.html' title=''/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-6514258522112315520</id><published>2010-04-11T19:49:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-11T19:49:50.736-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Title Origins</title><content type='html'>The title of this blog came from an e-mail I sent to my therapist recently.  See it below:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Therapist&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First: My symptoms have gone down to purging about 3 times a week.  I also stopped weighing myself.  I'm eating fairly regularly - as in 3 - 4 meals a day.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I started reading the book "When Rabbit Howls."  Once I write this e-mail to you, I'm going to put it away until we talk again, at least.  I've been pouring over it.  It's a book about Truddi chase - a woman with 92 personalities.  A counselor in Renfrew suggested I read it when I was there.  Four years later I got to it.  I'm on page 86 out of 370.  I'm becoming engrossed in it.  The similarities between this woman and myself are staggeringly alarming.  I read for half my day yesterday.  I took notes as I went, after I realized it was almost like reading about myself.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Here are my notes: &lt;br /&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of the these things I DO NOT share in common with "Truddi"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Truddi says she has very few memories.  I have a good amount of memories and have not lost much time throughout my life.  I have moments where time seems to speed up and slow down in the same moments.  I only have a handful of incidents where I completely checked out, like the one when I was driving last Sunday evening, a few times when I had to look through the trash to see what I had eaten the night before, a couple periods in Renfrew and about 3 months I'm told I lived with my grandmother.  I've been working on an autobiography off and on and it's pretty long so I must remember most things.  At this point I don't remember what I wrote in it though.  I think it's close to 30 pages typed and I don't really know how I filled up that much.  When writing it my memories are not linear.  I can't just write what happened from as far back as I remember to now.  I write a few things and end up slipping them into the approximate sequence afterward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ALL of these things I share in common with "Truddi"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I feel out of control most of the time.  Very distanced&lt;br /&gt;-I have trouble finding "safe" places, even imaginary ones&lt;br /&gt;-I run away from many people and situations&lt;br /&gt;-I write LOTS --- journals and journals&lt;br /&gt;-My "parts" are mean to me and yell at me sometimes&lt;br /&gt;-I have enormous amounts of shame, guilt fear and anxiety&lt;br /&gt;-I don't respond to meds&lt;br /&gt;-I have severe headaches --- sometimes without pain&lt;br /&gt;-I can go through several ranges of emotions within minutes&lt;br /&gt;-I often want to disappear or "go away"&lt;br /&gt;-I have intense "sexual uncomfort" as well as conflicting sexual preoccupation as a small child (I knew about sex at age 2)&lt;br /&gt;-I have a near inability to truly trust or sustain relationships&lt;br /&gt;-I have intuitively been drawn to dialoging&lt;br /&gt;-I never really believed I have DID but Truddi didn't know until in her 40s&lt;br /&gt;-I often get that "bigger than myself" feeling&lt;br /&gt;-I often ask "am I crazy" or just believe I am&lt;br /&gt;-I have layers of defenses&lt;br /&gt;-My "parts / personalities / people" don't want their names shared most of the time&lt;br /&gt;-I have much fear of punishment&lt;br /&gt;-FEAR FEAR FEAR&lt;br /&gt;-There is a sense that therapy = something bad is going to happen and I'm going to find out more than I can handle (this book has given me the same feeling - one or maybe three of my parts TOLD me not to read this book&lt;br /&gt;-Truddi says she hates chairs and won't sit in one during therapy. She says they are confining.  I think the same way about shoes, necklaces and having my hair down during therapy.  I call it my "therapy posture."&lt;br /&gt;-I'm extremely easily startled / very jumpy&lt;br /&gt;-I keep window shades drawn - Have you noticed that when we are in Sandy's room, when you leave the room before session to do something I pull the shades down?&lt;br /&gt;-I am perfectionistic and successful in the world's eyes - very much so for a 27 year old single woman&lt;br /&gt;-I have times where I'm afraid to leave the house, leave my couch even --- this is very conflicting from the above statement&lt;br /&gt;-I am always questioning the motives of other people and generally pessimistic --- I think people are only motivated by their own needs and wants, yet other days I recall having so many good thoughts about humanity&lt;br /&gt;-I have incredible energy (when I'm not frozen) --- especially when I was in college.  I used to get home at 3 in the morning then get to a 7 am class&lt;br /&gt;-I don't trust or believe myself and can NEVER make up my mind in a timely manner&lt;br /&gt;-I often feel numb and like there is some impending doom&lt;br /&gt;-One of my parts knows about another one of my parts but will not speak about him. Both of these parts are very strong parts&lt;br /&gt;-As a child I had places in my house I was scared of.  I never wanted to be in there alone.  I used to think there were ghosts in this one house I lived in.&lt;br /&gt;-Since I was about 7 or maybe it was 9 I sense different parts of me&lt;br /&gt;-My 1st grade teacher had a discussion with my mom and I about my "day dreaming."  I used to sit in class just staring at the wall or ceiling I guess.  My teacher told me that every time I would catch myself drifting away I would have to make a tic mark on my page&lt;br /&gt;-I don't usually expect what I see in the mirror and it semi-changes from day to day&lt;br /&gt;-I have the sense that there are things I don't remember in my life but ... what? when? who?&lt;br /&gt;-I forget things within minutes --- I generally think of them again later but I have had to get myself to repeat things over and over until I get someone if I need to do something.  Example: If I need to get three things at the grocery for a dinner I want to make.  I repeat the three things over and over and over until I have them all in the cart.&lt;br /&gt;-This has also lead to numerous lists and schedules.  So many in my life that I could wallpaper my house at least 5 times over with them.&lt;br /&gt;-I simply CAN'T memorize.  I know my phone number and address and a few other things but can't memorize other things.  I did well in math, with all those formulas but the only reason I did well is because I learned how to derive the formulas all the time.  I've been trying to memorize scripture verses for years.  I can't.  I have much trouble with spelling too... which is kind of memorization.&lt;br /&gt;-I second guess myself constantly and don't make decisions well&lt;br /&gt;-I HATE to drive b/c I don't generally know where I am or where I'm going.  I get lost EVERY time I go somewhere new and usually for a few more times after that.&lt;br /&gt;-I have the sensation of floating regularly.  Of watching myself.&lt;br /&gt;-I'm always losing things that I find in places I didn't realize I put them.  This has lead to a need for routine places for things, like my keys always go in the same spot.  Before I had that I used to start looking for my keys hours before I left the house.&lt;br /&gt;-I am hypercritical&lt;br /&gt;-I can't remember dates (of almost anything, past, present or future - they just don't make sense)&lt;br /&gt;-I have interest and aptitude in very conflicting things: ex: math and art&lt;br /&gt;-Truddi says she has noticed "sporadic awareness that had been stirred up lately."  I TOTALLY have that.  I think this is the feeling I get when my "parts" want to talk.  It's kind of an intense searching for what's just under the surface.&lt;br /&gt;-The last item is the most interesting one:  Truddi has trouble with sort of emitting energy.  When she spends much time with electronics they sort of break or malfunction.  She says in the prologue it's b/c people in general have a certain amount of energy and when more than on person is present the energy multiplies.  I can't wear a watch b/c the battery dies and the time doesn't stay regular.  I've gone through 7 cell phones in the past 2 years b/c they just break.  I've "fried" every computer I've ever had, even the ones at work that have tons of anti-virus and can't even download anything.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I'm sort of piecing things together like a detective.  If I have symptoms XYZ then I have disorder XYZ.  I need you to help me with some elimination.  I want you to tell me that I, beyond a shadow of a doubt, 100% do not have DID.  Or I want you to tell me that you aren't sure and it's worth exploring. If you think I have it then that's fine to know now too but the thing I really want to know is if I DON'T have it so I can stop thinking I do, if it's not a possibility. Saying I DON'T have it is not saying I DO.  I know there is this continuum in many issues but at what point does a person draw the line and decide there is enough proof then not?  So if you do not believe I have D.I.D. then what explains all of the above?  I'm sure there are many explanations but what fits the best?  What fits them ALL?  I didn't want to spring this on you during session without time to think about it but I really need to know what YOU think about all this.  I just want to KNOW.  I'm locking my book away for now.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Concerned and Inquisitive,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I sent that e-mail, I locked the book away.  When I talked with my therapist, we put the idea of DID away for good.  My symptoms and behaviors are not multiple personalities but I think I had to be sure of that before I started really diving into my parts.  I don't think there are many people that do this kind of therapy work so I feel it's important to share with the world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-6514258522112315520?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/6514258522112315520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/title-origins_11.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/6514258522112315520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/6514258522112315520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/title-origins_11.html' title='Title Origins'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-364411992596612831</id><published>2010-04-11T19:27:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-11T19:34:31.043-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Therapeutic Breakthrough'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Splitting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='IFS'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Switching'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parts'/><title type='text'>More Than One</title><content type='html'>After this past week, I'm learning much more about my parts. This past week was the first time Victoria spoke to someone without me interpreting. Some sort of gate was opened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parts can definitely operate simultaneously. Often times they NEED to. One that doesn't have one ability is supplemented by one that does or is a filter for that second one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Example: Victoria's not emotional so often times another part is "out" with her to make sure she responds appropriately to people's emotion. They sort of switch back and forth, like a dance. Or if that part isn't fully out, that part will be close in the background sort of coaching Victoria on an appropriate response when she just doesn't get what people are saying about emotional stuff.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-364411992596612831?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/364411992596612831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/more-than-one.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/364411992596612831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/364411992596612831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/more-than-one.html' title='More Than One'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-2006316065300027669</id><published>2010-04-11T19:14:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-11T19:23:42.380-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Therapy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mental health'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='overwhelmed'/><title type='text'>Shutdown</title><content type='html'>I often find myself completely shut down. I can't do much more than sit and stare. Today, I hit the shut down. My therapist and I also call this a "freeze." It used to only happen when I was in some sort of traumatic situation but now it happens at least once a week, generally more. Time is sort of distorted during these shutdowns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess it's my way of taking a break when things get overwhelming. I really wish I could just get up and clean my house! That's when I wish Victoria would take over. She's the one that gets things done. She's a good one to be in public. It's safe when she's the one operating. It's not always good though. She can tend to offend people I think, because of her lack of empathy and compassion or simple regard for other people.  She's what you would call a severe type A personality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've pretty much come to grips with the fact that I'm not getting anything done today. :( I'm still not happy about it though. My head is killing me and I know I need to eat but don't want to get up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-2006316065300027669?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/2006316065300027669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/shutdown.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/2006316065300027669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/2006316065300027669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/shutdown.html' title='Shutdown'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185117071792001023.post-9019712580327941855</id><published>2010-04-11T17:30:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-11T18:20:55.515-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Therapy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='DID'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='IFS'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='recovery'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='eating disorder'/><title type='text'>People.Personalities.Parts</title><content type='html'>Hello Readers:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FIRST A LITTLE ABOUT ME&lt;br /&gt;I'm an Engineer in my late 20's. Since April of 2001 I have had an active eating disorder. It's laid dormant for short periods of time but never gone away. I'm currently in a better place but have slips every now and then. My eating disorder (often referred to as ED) is not the only mental issue I deal with, nor has it been the hardest to overcome. I've been treated for a myriad of disorders, including but not limited to: Adjustment Disorder, PTSD, Major Depressive Disorder, Panic Disorder, Bi-Polar 2 Disorder. I've been Baker Acted, admitted into an Inpatient Treatment Center, enrolled in an Intensive Outpatient Treatment Program, undergone countless hours of therapy and seen Nutritionists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The biggest thing you should know about me is that I WILL NOT GIVE UP on having a good life. I AM A SURVIVOR. I've fought to live too many times to believe that I don't have a purpose to fulfill here on earth. While many of my friends and treatment acquaintances have left the Recovery path, I continue on. It's not fun but it's the only worthy option for me. Do I struggle, slip and even fall? OF COURSE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second thing you should know about me is that I am a Christian (at least most of me is --- more on that later). I believe what the Bible says. I want and need my relationship with God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit. The triune God is who continues to save me and protect me as a whole. I have plenty of struggles with faith as well, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PURPOSE OF THIS BLOG&lt;br /&gt;I have found myself needing to "unload" often. As I am now entering into a great period of self discovery, I need to share it with someone. I don't want to burden my friends, family and other support groups all the time. I hope you will give me feedback and comment on my blogs. Me and my parts need to know we are not alone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also seen much benefit in listening to other people's stories. I hope my blog can give you hope, comfort and validation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MY RULES&lt;br /&gt;I will not disclose my name or specific details about myself. I will not have pictures of myself on this blog. (I will also not use real names of people or have pictures of other people, as to protect identities as much as possible.) The names and specifics are not important. The feelings and issues are important. I need this to remain anonymous. I'm sure some people out there will want to find me and I haven't gone to huge lengths to keep that from happening but I ask for anonymity. With anonymity I can be honest which will make this blog much more powerful and useful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will not post anything I do not believe to be true. With that said, I do not claim to be an expert on everything, so I may believe something that is untrue myself. I will not lie to you though. I HATE it when people lie to me. I often find myself needing an uplifting story but cannot believe what someone is telling me. You can believe what I write. I would rather tell the truth then tell you something that sounds good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT IS THE INTERNAL FAMILY SYSTEM (IFS) MODEL&lt;br /&gt;I cannot describe it in clinical terms but here is my best understanding. IFS is a therapeutic tool for learning about how one's self behaves, reacts and relates to her world. It can sound a bit crazy and I have many times wondered if I'm crazy. However, I've seen so much progress come out of it. If you want to find out more about it, the best website I know is actually a treatment center website. It's the website for Castlewood Treatment Center: http://castlewoodtc.com. Mark and Richard Schwartz have made huge strides in IFS. They may have started it. I know very little about IFS technically but intuitively I know it's powerful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It basically says that we all have multiplicity, different parts of our self. Think about it.... are you different at work than with friends or with friends than with family or at church, the grocery or a night club? This is NOT Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) (also known as Multiple Personality Disorder) but I feel like it's related, almost a lesser version. I have lots of parts and I'm just now beginning to understand what they do for me. The first part that "came out" with a name and spoke to someone else was Victoria, hence my name in this blog. I don't know how many more there will be or if any more of them will "speak" to someone without me. One of the main differences I see with IFS versus DID, is the amnesia. I fully remember what Victoria said and how she acts. I believe people with DID have no or very little recollection of what their other parts do, at least at first. It sounds a bit science fiction at times but I've decided to accept it as me and work with what I can learn from these parts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please join me in this journey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's Go,&lt;br /&gt;Victoria 1st&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185117071792001023-9019712580327941855?l=peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/feeds/9019712580327941855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/peoplepersonalitiesparts.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/9019712580327941855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185117071792001023/posts/default/9019712580327941855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peoplepersonalitiesparts.blogspot.com/2010/04/peoplepersonalitiesparts.html' title='People.Personalities.Parts'/><author><name>Victoria 1st</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14370774990457083874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IwBjQjvfSl4/S_gcQU7qo_I/AAAAAAAAACA/3nANbrD27QU/S220/Mirror+Mirror.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
