Am I in control over my own body?

After my previous blog entry of Nov 19 (yesterday), I did end up going to the gym. The 35 minutes on the elliptical was fine. And the second part of my workout was ~25 minutes free weights. All fine until my last two exercises which each involved laying on a bench on my back. I started having something or other on the dissociation spectrum of things – intrusive memories, flashbacks, reliving – or maybe just “plain” anxiety upon laying on my back in a public place (even though there was no one else there and I’ve been doing these exercises for well over a year now) or anxiety at being sweaty and lifting heavy things. So I started internal communication that included something along the lines of ‘I’m in control of my own body’ or maybe ‘I have control over my own body’ or something like that. I don’t remember much after that except that Hektor vehemently stated that we in fact do not, or at least, did not, have any such control when Abuser was touching us. Later in the day I remember images of cutting…but as for most of the hours between 2 and 6pm, I have no recollection. Oh wait, there is something else – I remember feeling quite nauseated most of the day. Very tired and weak, too, like I’d fall asleep instantly if given the chance. Well, that’s all folks.

Today I feel like writing

What is it about today that makes me want to write? In the time since I’ve blogged regularly, a lot has happened – I’ve lost my job, I’ve gotten married (and so Husband is introduced), I’ve lost about 70 pounds and participated in a triathlon, my grandmother’s been hospitalized for a few weeks, my cousin’s developed acute social anxiety, Friend YJ has gone to a different part of the country for in-patient treatment, and I will move to my husband’s house at the end of next week. But I’m not gonna write about any of that. Instead, I want to tell you that I don’t want to do anything today. Nothing.

I saw my psychiatrist last week for the first time since June. She prescribed my Xanax for the increased daytime anxiety/symptoms I’m experiencing as a result of all the life-changes noted above. I haven’t taken any. The thought of taking a new medication (with unknown side effects) is itself inducing anxiety. The thought of leaving my apartment (for any reason), packing, eating, or looking for jobs is enough to bring tears to my eyes and have me curled up on the floor in a corner of my closet. Rather than doing any of those, I’m in my living room in bright sunlight writing here about nothing.

Last week, Husband met Melody, one of my youngest alters. I haven’t been that dissociated (where there was virtually no co-consciousness) in a long time, probably on the order of years. And having increased symptoms – that’s anxiety inducing too.

Last night, I had a long session with Therapist. Upon leaving, I thought everything was ok. It was the first time in weeks I walked from his office to the train station without being afraid of my surroundings. I got home, Husband and I spoke a bit about my session and alters, I took my Gabapentin (to help me sleep), and then I went to sleep. And all night I had dreams of Abuser or Brother. I’d wake up from one, realize it was a dream, calm down, go back to sleep, and then have a dream about the other. All night this went on. The dreams about Abuser were slightly different than the usual ones (from years ago) in that he wasn’t really doing much of anything. He was silently there, following me wherever I went. I’m not one for dream interpretation, so I’ll get right back to the short chronology – when I finally woke up to start the day, I felt scared. Staying in bed under the covers was safe, so I did that for a few hours. Eventually I decided that getting out of bed, even if I continued doing ‘nothing’, was a step in the right direction (of having a somewhat structured day, of decreasing my fear, of not falling farther into despair, of not staying in bed all day, etc), so I forced myself to come into the living room.

Here I am, in the living room. Bright sunlight. Newly planted and newly seeded herbs, some growing hydroponically. Our new road bikes against the utility closet. Packing material to the left, to the right.

What is one small thing I can do to change my situation, even by 1%? I can brush my hair and put it in a ponytail. That will get me off the couch and moving.

Ok, done. Moving was good. Heh – moving. I went for a 15 mile run on Sunday, the longest and farthest I’ve ever run. Yesterday my legs were aching and I was having a lot of trouble moving, but today everything seems like it’s back to normal – so yeah, moving just now felt good, and I probably can do a bit more. 35 minutes on an elliptical + my usual free weights for arms for ~25 minutes. I can do that. My hair’s already up. Next step is changing. Sports bra – the black Nike one; workout t-shirt – the brown UA one; shorts – yeah, those; socks; pink ripped Sauconys. And my iPod for my Teaching Company lectures, pink headphones. I can totally do this. Keys to apartment means I’ll have to go out of it, but that’s ok – I can keep us safe outside and it is unlikely that anything dangerous will happen. All I’m doing is going downstairs and down the hall to the gym. That’s all.

Small acts kindness from an unexpected source

As a trauma survivor, I learned to be independent at a young age. Throughout my adult life, this has manifested as continued independence, self-reliance and a lack of expectation that other adults would go out of their way to be kind (to me). I am not talking about relatives or very close friends or health care providers. Yesterday, someone went out of his way to be nice to me. I had posted on facebook that I was contemplating starting to watch the series Mad Men, and was generally asking whether people thought it worth watching or not. My high school English teacher, with whom I had no contact after high school until friending him on facebook about 6 months ago, was part of the ensuing conversation in the comments section. Not only did he highly recommend it, but he wrote that he thought the special features/bonus section, available on DVD and not via streaming, were well worth watching. He then sent me a private message to ask whether I’d like him to send me the DVDs, as he had the first four seasons as a boxed set. Part of my brain went to the expected trauma-based response of ‘what is this person really asking/saying/wanting?’, but the other part of my brain was immediately touched by his kindness. Yes, that would be great, I told him. And then today he messaged me to ask whether I’d prefer USPS or UPS delivery. What a thoughtful gesture. The discs are already on their way via 2-day UPS.

For anyone who is reading this who knows that I, along with some other people who are connected through facebook, was worried about the disappearance from facebook of my high school English teacher after Hurricane Sandy, this is the same person. The reason for his disappearance was the lack of electricity for nearly two weeks (I think he had some flooding too, but not to the point of evacuating).