Sunday, September 23, 2012

Highway

We are speeding
Along a highway
20 mph above
The speed limit
All of us
Crammed into a tiny
Car on a long
Winding highway
It crosses over itself
There are no traffic lights
But barriers
In nonsensical places
If we stop
We will likely crash
CRASH!
The scenery makes
No sense at all
Nothing does
In this car
Eva says
Pull over
You don't have to drive
But we do!
We need to drive
There's nowhere to pull over
So the colors around
Continue to blur
Nonsensical
Why are these colors here
In this order
Along this road
I don't need to stop driving
Whether I do or not
There will be a CRASH
Because no one
Can drive
Forever....

(Artistic rendering of the scenery below)

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Understand II

I think some people did not understand my last post. See, people actually in my situation seemed to get it, but those outside of it, didn't.

(my apologies, in advance for not replying to comments on the last post and not publishing all, I'm using a mobile device and can't seem to comment.)

I am Jewish. I am religious-Hassidic, in fact. Yes, there are organizations-tikvah at ohel, ohel itself, the Jewish Board, and others.

If you have read my blog from start to finish, you know that my current therapist is number 11. Although I have never explicitly stated it (that I recall) I have been diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder. (No apologies here-if you comment on my blog in any way denying the existence of my very real illness, I will mark it as spam.)

Do you know how hard it is to find a therapist that works for any given client? Do you know how hard it is to find a therapist experienced in treating DID?

Sure, I can go to a clinic and get low cost therapy, pay five dollars a session. But at what cost to my health? I'm with an amazing therapist, one who gets me, understands me, and actually knew enough to suspect my condition, and knew enough to know where to send me for a proper evaluation. None of my TEN previous therapists saw that. I was just called lazy, and told I wouldn't get better if I didn't do the work and I could never understand what was WRONG with me, that I was killing myself (metaphorically) working in therapy and not getting better! Turns out, it was all the wrong work for me.

Still think I should leave a therapist who has helped me make great strides, and works with all of me, for someone who doesn't know how to screen for DID, let alone treat it? Walk eleven therapists and fifteen years of trying, after (probably more than) seven years of sexual abuse. Then judge.