I have major issues with my memory. Now, at times it's comical. I do stupid things, like I leave my keys in random places, like the freezer, or put my wallet in the fridge. I mix up my words and say stupid things. It's kind of the joke in my house. I'm a flake.
But the reality is often more frustrating. I completely forget where I am going or why. I totally forget entire events or conversations. I can't remember what the hell I'm talking about in the middle of a conversation with somebody, or how I ended up in the conversation in the first place.
I have a dissociative disorder. Or so my doctor says. And no, it's not "multiple personality," because trust me, I almost got up and left her office when she said that whole "dissociative" word. I don't go for that. It's not that I'm a total flake. I mean, I'm a flake--it's always been part of my personality. But the blank spots? The lost time? That's not normal, apparently. I'm still coming to terms with what that means. I really had a frustrating time this week. See, it gets worse if I'm upset, or if there is stuff going on, if I'm particularly stressed... So this week I lost the saddle soap that I was supposed to use to clean a pair of boots before I listed them on ebay. Only I didn't think I lost it. I never even knew I had it. Last time I recalled that saddle soap was months ago, sitting on a shelf. My husband, on the other hand, told me we had an entire conversation about it, during which he handed it to me, along with a brush and the boots, which I put somewhere. I remember thinking about the boots, because I knew I was going to clean them, but I did not recall this conversation. Thus, I tore apart the shelf in my living room, looking for the saddle soap that I knew was there. It had to be, because that was where I'd left it--where I'd last seen it. When I said something to my husband, he told me we'd had this conversation, and I actually got mad. This isn't the first time THAT has happened. I hate being told we've had conversations or interactions that I have no recollection of. They just DIDN'T happen, in my mind. It's not even a matter of not remembering, they REALLY didn't happen for me! He doesn't fight me on this, he knows how this works by now, and usually walks away shaking his head.
This morning I found the saddle soap and the brush. Inside the boots, in the bucket where I keep the stuff I am prep'ing for Ebay.
I get scared, insecure, when this happens. See, this is only a couple of lost moments in time. But there are many of these moments for me. Some of them weeks long, going all the way back--childhood, teens, and beyond and they still occur.
My doctor's explanation? It always goes back to the sexual trauma. It is an early learned behavior, a mechanism I learned to cope with things that I didn't know how to deal with, or didn't want to deal with. As I grew older, it became easier and easier for my mind to slip into this mode, and now, I am more likely to do it for moments under stress, fatigue, distress... So two friends dying in one month would explain why so many little conversations are lost this week, I would guess. But do you know how creepy it is to think that my mind just shuts off and autopilots like that? That I'm there, but I'm not? "Lights are on, but nobody's home!"
What a crock... I'm so ready to be done with all this shit. If therapy is the way I need to go, and diving in is the only way, then so be it. I'm there. I'm trying. But... This has to end somewhere, right? I mean, it obviously hasn't been working for me ignoring it my whole life, because I still had those moments in my younger days--I just liked to combine them with partying and call them "blackouts" and "bad choices" back then! So much easier to explain them away with alcohol, ya know?
On another subject, I totally missed my therapy this morning because the truck was not up for the long drive. Which sucks, because my mind is in hyperdrive today. I coulda used some shrinking. :)
But the reality is often more frustrating. I completely forget where I am going or why. I totally forget entire events or conversations. I can't remember what the hell I'm talking about in the middle of a conversation with somebody, or how I ended up in the conversation in the first place.
I have a dissociative disorder. Or so my doctor says. And no, it's not "multiple personality," because trust me, I almost got up and left her office when she said that whole "dissociative" word. I don't go for that. It's not that I'm a total flake. I mean, I'm a flake--it's always been part of my personality. But the blank spots? The lost time? That's not normal, apparently. I'm still coming to terms with what that means. I really had a frustrating time this week. See, it gets worse if I'm upset, or if there is stuff going on, if I'm particularly stressed... So this week I lost the saddle soap that I was supposed to use to clean a pair of boots before I listed them on ebay. Only I didn't think I lost it. I never even knew I had it. Last time I recalled that saddle soap was months ago, sitting on a shelf. My husband, on the other hand, told me we had an entire conversation about it, during which he handed it to me, along with a brush and the boots, which I put somewhere. I remember thinking about the boots, because I knew I was going to clean them, but I did not recall this conversation. Thus, I tore apart the shelf in my living room, looking for the saddle soap that I knew was there. It had to be, because that was where I'd left it--where I'd last seen it. When I said something to my husband, he told me we'd had this conversation, and I actually got mad. This isn't the first time THAT has happened. I hate being told we've had conversations or interactions that I have no recollection of. They just DIDN'T happen, in my mind. It's not even a matter of not remembering, they REALLY didn't happen for me! He doesn't fight me on this, he knows how this works by now, and usually walks away shaking his head.
This morning I found the saddle soap and the brush. Inside the boots, in the bucket where I keep the stuff I am prep'ing for Ebay.
I get scared, insecure, when this happens. See, this is only a couple of lost moments in time. But there are many of these moments for me. Some of them weeks long, going all the way back--childhood, teens, and beyond and they still occur.
My doctor's explanation? It always goes back to the sexual trauma. It is an early learned behavior, a mechanism I learned to cope with things that I didn't know how to deal with, or didn't want to deal with. As I grew older, it became easier and easier for my mind to slip into this mode, and now, I am more likely to do it for moments under stress, fatigue, distress... So two friends dying in one month would explain why so many little conversations are lost this week, I would guess. But do you know how creepy it is to think that my mind just shuts off and autopilots like that? That I'm there, but I'm not? "Lights are on, but nobody's home!"
What a crock... I'm so ready to be done with all this shit. If therapy is the way I need to go, and diving in is the only way, then so be it. I'm there. I'm trying. But... This has to end somewhere, right? I mean, it obviously hasn't been working for me ignoring it my whole life, because I still had those moments in my younger days--I just liked to combine them with partying and call them "blackouts" and "bad choices" back then! So much easier to explain them away with alcohol, ya know?
On another subject, I totally missed my therapy this morning because the truck was not up for the long drive. Which sucks, because my mind is in hyperdrive today. I coulda used some shrinking. :)
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