#i haven't felt this consistently suicidal since high school

[sga-owns-my-soul]

lol ignore this 🙃

i can't stop crying at work because everything in my life is going wrong and this stupid shit with my stupid cousin and family is upsetting me so much and it shouldn't be and i feel so fucking stupid for being bothered by this bc it's what i wanted!!! but no i'm wrong again and this time they're just all fully cutting me off and i'm working non fucking stop and still can't afford anything bc the world is going to absolute fucking shit and i'm just so sick of feeling like i can't do anything right ever and i've been feeling suicidal every fucking day for an entire fucking MONTH because of everything and my cousin was who i always reached out to when things got bad and i fucking can't because SHES NOT TALKING TO ME and i'm going to cry AGAIN FUCK

i'm so sick of this

i'm so sick of falling apart because of my family

i'm so sick of never being good enough

i'm so sick of feeling like this

i'm so fucking tired

[honeysuckle-venom]

5, 9, & 18💜

Thank you so much for asking Fable!!!

5. Are there parts that are more able to communicate with each other than others?

Yes, for sure. Most of us in the main system communicate with each other fairly well at this point, but I tend to be a bit of a central point. Like Eloise communicates with me, and Cypher communicates with me, but I don't think Eloise and Cypher ever really communicate, you know? Although Cypher and the kids do, and Eloise and the kids do. So actually I don't know, it's kind of a weird graph with some parts communicating with some and not others now that I think about it.

What I can say for sure though is that the Dolls all communicate with each other much more easily than anyone in the main system, and those in the main system all communicate with each other much more easily than with the Dolls.

9. When did you find out/realize you had a dissociative disorder?

5 years ago, when I was 19. I had been in therapy with my current, excellent therapist since I was 16, and we had discussed the fact that I definitely had PTSD, but we didn't really focus on diagnoses. I was attending a school at the time that for various reasons attracted a lot of people with significant trauma histories, and therefore a higher than normal percentage of people with dissociative disorders. I had a good friend who had DID, and another friend who was starting to wonder if he had DID. So I introduced the two of them so they could talk about it. As I listened to their conversation I felt a growing sense of alarm and disbelief, because everything they were saying connected to what I experienced. I later approached my friend who had DID to talk to them about it, and they provided me with some resources (including mentioning DID tumblr, as we were both tumblr users). I started to learn more, and as I did I became more and more convinced that this was something I was experiencing. I talked about all of this with my therapist as it was happening, and she agreed that DID was a diagnosis that fit me. And we went from there.

18. What has your experience with therapy been like?

Oh boy. This is going to get long. You know what, this post is so long already, I'm putting the answer to this part under a cut. Trigger warnings for mentions of self harm and suicidality

So I've had a lot of different experiences with therapy over the years. When I was 11 my whole family went through some significantly traumatic events, and I was put in therapy. I've been in therapy pretty consistently ever since.

I saw my first therapist from 11-16, when I moved away and started seeing my current therapist. But besides my two main, long term therapists I've also seen a number of others, such as school psychologists, family therapists, inpatient therapists, and psychiatrists.

My first therapist was...decent. She wasn't bad, she wasn't great, she was helpful to a point but couldn't fix the deeper issues, and I'm still not sure how much of what was going on she actually picked up on or knew about. Certainly the words "dissociation" "psychosis" and "abuse" never came up, but she also started advocating for me to go to boarding school/live away from home when I was 12, so she must have had some sense that my home life wasn't the healthiest. My current therapist and I are actually planning to get in touch with her this summer to learn more about what I was like in middle and high school. But anyway, I think for the most part she was just...perfectly fine, and I'm glad that I saw her. Being introduced to therapy and having it normalized at a young age was definitely beneficial for me and allowed me to do deeper work more easily later on.

My other experiences with therapy besides my current therapist have not been that great though, and some have been quite traumatic. For the most part, therapists just haven't known what to do with me. I have a complicated and somewhat unusual trauma history, DID, schizophrenia, OCD, anxiety, an eating disorder, and a long history of self harm and aborted suicide attempts. It's a lot for your average therapist to handle. One psychiatrist at an intensive DBT inpatient program I did told me I was "too weird" and made me do exercises focused on fitting in with the other kids in the program and being "more normal" rather than focusing on the severe suicidality I was there for. The psychiatrist I saw from when I was 16-20 was obsessed with managing the weight I had gained from medication and would regularly tell me to engage in deeply triggering and unhealthy behaviors that worsened my eating disorder. The family therapist my family went to when I was 15 and 16 accused me of being manipulative when I talked about wanting to kill myself during a session. The therapist I saw for a brief period in the counseling center at my college found my history and symptoms overwhelming and cried several times during our sessions, which was kind of funny to me, but not particularly helpful. The vast majority of therapists I've seen have not known what to do with me or what was wrong with me, have misdiagnosed me with various things from bpd to schizotypal personality disorder to bipolar disorder, have actively made me worse, and/or have just been completely lost and overwhelmed by my case.

But then, after it became clear that I needed more help than the college counseling center could provide, I started seeing an outside therapist, J. I was 16. J was like nothing and no one I had ever met. She trusted me. She believed me. She listened to me. She was funny, and smart, and had a sense of humor dark enough to match my own. She wasn't scared when I talked about violent urges towards myself and others. She didn't flinch away from my more severe symptoms. She took my word over my parents' when they said contradictory things to her. She gave me a place where I could tell the truth without being afraid of the consequences. She pushed when I needed to be pushed, and gave space when I needed space, and trusted my instincts. She worked with me, not on me. She didn't try to fix me or claim she knew myself better than I did. She challenged me, but she trusted me as the ultimate authority on myself, and no one had ever done that before. It felt like a miracle. It was a miracle. J has saved my life many times. I truly believe that if I hadn't met her and started working with her I wouldn't be here today.

I've been seeing J multiple times a week for 8 years now, and in that time I've made incredible progress. I had no idea it was possible to have a therapist as good as she is. I now know it's possible, although it's very rare. She's really someone special, and I know how incredibly lucky I am to see her. Therapy can be all over the map. I've had decent therapy, bad therapy, and great therapy at various times. I completely understand people who don't trust therapists after having bad experiences with them. But good therapists are out there and they can really, really help, and I'm so incredibly grateful to have personal proof of that.

[cutecutebibaforever]

July 2, 2021

Central Europe Time

5:45pm

"Nag suicide si Dian"

So, okay, at the back of my mind says,

she will survive, she is strong, she will make it.

Apparently, when I was settled on the assigned seat, few of our close friends and schoolmates at SMAD messaged me and ask and sent screenshots about the incident.

Because I really had a rough day battling the Spanish bureacracy today, I did not mind it. I have always been a victim of pranks and "what nots" in real life, so yeah, I didn't mind actually.

Then again, opening messages in facebook messenger every now and then is my thing now and completely settled in with my seat number, I opened them up. My cousin Felni confirmed it with mama Jeb, Walter and Kurt in the GC. I literally felt my heart stopped and think about the last time Dian and I talked and exchanged banters and reminiscing the old us comparing to the new generation.

I fondly call her "Tot" because it is my secret pet name to my original sister who has the same name, Dyantot. "Tot" became my endearment for her and she called me C2 (meaning CuteCute, Cute squared. LOL) HAHAHA!

Dian and I had been through a lot and only a few people knew that. She became the sister I have always wanted, near or far.

I got to know her my sixth grade and continued the friendship in high school where we created so much memories together. Memories about annoying the RVM sisters, competing with batches, intramurals, JS proms when she would be challenged to wear a gown and makeup and CAT training with Sir Pat and former CAT officers which we considered really close.

The CAT training for me was the most memorable in our high school together. We had so much fun annoying the elders with our endless banters, being serious with the task at hand, collaborating with the group, bringing out strategies to win, alas, if I could only go back to that moment, nothing compares. My batchmates can really relate. That moment became the defining moment of our sisterhood when we were 14. It was such a lovely memory that when we got to talk about it, it seems like it was just last year.

I am writing this with so much pain because she has nothing more than the real friend I had. One of the very few who totally understood my choices of men, bizarre plans, impossible dreams coming true and so on. We literally grew up together.

Our twenty years of friendship consisted surely of fights, sharing happiness and sadness, life's milestone and dreaming about what is to come. We bullied each other and had unsimilar discussions because of our differences yet we got past through it in surfing adulthood with responsibilities, dreams being set aside because of bigger priorities, goals yet to be achieved and so much more.

I am particularly sure that you would agree (to those who really got to know her and our circle) that she was the life of the party.

She was the person who would let you stay at a party and going home won't even matter because discussing with her is an endless mixture of jokes, sarcasm, satires and real life learning and experiences.

I remember she had a great respect for my father that we always get to keep our shenanigans privately in college because I had to pretend to my father that I am not drinking, partying and dating.

I am writing this because Dian opened up to me her most vulnerable state all throughout this pandemic. I listened to her about her frustrations of not being able to practice her license that forced her to make a different path because she wanted to help her family even in little ways. This to me, is very heroic. I haven't really been in a situation where I really have to support a family member 100% so I admire her for this. She was everyone's hero and she played it really well not minder her own pain, frustrations and incapabilities.

One time in April, she called me crying because somebody hurt her and she was in pain, she was emotional that I cried with her too. That video call actully ended with our usual gloating laughter. HAHAHA! She would always be there for you, one call, and she's there. I kid you not.

All througout May and June, we were endlessly chatting in instagram and confessing that she took her long-time partner back even if she had trust issues on her own. I was mad and told her to cut connections but she said, she loved her to much. So, I, the supportive friend encouraged her to always prioritized herself first (this is with screen shots). I told her adamantly that she needs to see the bigger picture of things in different perspectives because we are not getting any younger. That catch-up ended me saying "fine, I will be supportive only if you take care of yourself first.."

Furthermore, on her state of vulnerability, she opened up to so many of her expectations not being met by the people she expected along the way. She was confused, felt judged and neglected by these people she thought the shoulders she can cry on. I only told her to let go and cut connections of these people, but she ended up doing the opposite. That's what she was, stubborn yet respectful to my advices. This was so frustrating for me because I was so busy in 2019 that we never really got to hang out the way we were in college, drinking our hearts out, partying like we were invincible. Clubbing just because we had good grades in midterms and finals, odd summer getaways of staying at beach looking at the stars and shouting our hearts out to the ocean.

We only had chats, video calls since I moved to Spain.

Recently, (March-April 2021) she was bothered because she felt like a lot of people is expecting too much from her. She felt like she needs to explain her side of the story so that she won't be judged as the bad guy. I found this saddening. Most of the people she valued wanted her to be the person that she is not and she talked about it as if it was just nothing, like ordinary. I for once told her that it is mean and condescending of these people to expect you that way. Why would you keep these people who expected you to be not yourself? She just shrugged it off and we went back to the usual saying of "I love yous'" and "please take care" "see you soon".

I am still on the plane two more hours for Istanbul and I am crying nonstop 😭

I will be home without her, this is reality and it is piercing me. The supposed homecoming would be a saddening one because I lost a friend and a sister for hiding so well her mental health issues, her angst, her hurt and I felt at fault because I was not the constant listener.

Tot, I don't know what to say but I am sorry for not being there all the time. you were hiding it so well that nobody knew you are suffering. I was hoping to celebrate my life's winning moment with you because you were not just supportive but the tolerating friend no one could ever replace. I was excited to let you wear a white dress for the next chapter of my life real soon and this all the more makes me cry 😭

I could only wish to see you one more time but these circumstances that we are having now makes it so impossible (since I am in quarantine).

I owe so many things from you and I don't know how to accept your unfateful demise. I am heart broken and it will take a lot of time for me to move on but I will get there in time. God has His reasons we cannot possibly know why at this time of grief but I am faithful that God will restore you and take away your sufferings that you have been enduring for so long.

I love you is an understatement.