An Honest Explanation And Update...

'Exposed'
As acknowledged in my new year blog post, I have become a lot more absent on this blog than I want to be.  I have been posting a few updates on my Instagram, but I realise these have been very far and few between, and probably quite cryptic in terms of detail.
It has always been my intention for this blog to offer 'something' to others.
I do share some of my life experiences, but my main intention is to use them to help others.
At the moment, I don't feel like I am in a position to be able to offer much in terms of advice or suggestion.  However, I do feel obliged to explain a bit about where I am at with a view to acknowledging openly my current situation in order that I may feel better able to return to my usual content when I am feeling ready.

A pretty major event in my life recently has been that before Christmas, I had my video recorded interview with the police about the historical sexual offences committed against me as a child.
There had been quite a build up to this - I had been in contact with the police since the beginning of the year, had various meeting, various setbacks etc.  The last few weeks leading up to the interview were particularly stressful, partly because of the anticipation and sense of build up, partly because a fair amount of additional unexpected issues came up surrounding the process.
Despite being utterly terrified, I was very determined to go ahead with the interview and get through it.
And I did.
I would really like to write about my experience of the interview and with the police process in general, but probably when I am further along with the process or, at least, when the interview is not feeling so raw and I've had more of a chance to process it.

I had no real idea how I would feel after the interview - it was a bit of an unknown entity that I couldn't fully plan for.
I hope to write more about this in future, but in short, initially there was a sense of relief...
I had done it, I had got to the end - that feeling of relief almost felt quite surreal
However, once I was dropped home and was alone in my flat - I really did feel more alone than ever.
Although I live alone, I am someone who is generally happy with my own company.
I have never really felt lonely - I think having DID does make it feel like I am never completely alone
Since the interview I have felt 'alone' - in more ways than one...
The connections I've made with how I've been feeling will probably not make much sense to anyone else.  The truth is, that when I crashed at home alone on my bed after the interview - an intense day of communication, exhange, and truth telling - the aloneness I was experiencing was reminiscent of how I was left feeling after the actual abuse.
For weeks following the interview, I didn't have any contact at all from the police, when I was told that I would have.  I struggled with that a lot.  Again, this probably makes little sense, but it actually made me feel quite violated - it felt as though they'd taken what they wanted from me, then dropped me, and left me alone to deal with how the interview made me feel.  I know the police have their own job to do, they are not social workers, and they probably never intended for me to feel this way
(in fact I think this all came down to a misunderstanding in communication).
The reality for me though, was that it felt similar to what happened after the incidents of abuse - I was left alone in the dark with the way the abuse made me feel.

Since the interview, I have also found it very hard to face people again.
My learning mentor suggested to me that perhaps the interview has left me feeling very 'exposed' and that is definitely the right word to describe it!
Although I have been in therapy for quite some time, I have never talked about all the details of what happened to me in one go, or in the depth I had to in the interview.  I am so used to all those harrowing details being contained in my mind.  In the space of a day, all that changed!
What happened to me was 'out there' - three people now know about what happens, they know all the details that before only I knew.
In the lead up to the interview, I had these moments of self-doubt - was I 'sure enough' to go ahead with this process?  Did any of this actually happen?  Though I knew deep down that I would never be putting myself through the process unless I knew something had happened.
Throughout the interview, all those doubts disappeared, because I knew full well that every word that came out of my mouth that day was the truth - I was honest about what I did know and what details I was not so sure about.  Perhaps that was what I found most difficult - the truth - and the truth being out there...
It was such a dramatic shift and it left me feeling all the more confused about who I am and who people perceive me to be.
I felt anxious about people who knew about the interview seeing me because I felt like they'd be able to see that 'I was different'.
I was anxious about seeing people who didn't know about the interview because I didn't know whether I could be the person they expected me to be.
I feel like I might be sounding quite unfair when I say that I have felt so alone since the interview -
I have told a few trusted people about the interview and the support of some of them has been absolutely invaluable.
I do appreciate that it must be hard to know the 'right thing to say' - I have experienced different reactions - the one I find most difficult is that some people seem to think that I am supposed to be feeling 'better' after the interview - almost assuming that it should have 'cured me'.

In my usual style, initially, after the interview I tried to jump straight back into life as it was before the interview.  I went into uni, attempted to start studying again, clung to my regime of house chores more desperately than ever before.
Characteristically, I then crashed...
I realised that I was falling into the same patterns of behaviour associated with the lead up to my previous crisis.
I was desperate just to feel 'normal' or 'as I was', but the mask of 'normality' I attempted to wear couldn't shield me from the fact that on the inside I was crumbling.
I didn't know how I could live with the thoughts, feelings and images that the interview had triggered in myself, my system, and my body.
I have this bizarre tendency when I start becoming preoccupied with suicidal thoughts where I become 'excessively functional'.  My flat was by all accounts clean and tidy - not necessarily by my exacting standards, though others described it as 'prestine'!  Sometimes when I become aware of what I'm doing, I feel incredibly frustrated to be so engrossed in such mundane tasks, which reflect visually the complete opposite of the chaos going on deep within.
I am told that this is very unusual behaviour for someone who is feeling suicidal, but everyone's 'crisis' and 'rock bottom' is different.
One particular evening I suddenly became incredibly aware of this downward spiral I was falling into.  There were lots of factors around that day that led to how I ended up feeling, but ultimately because I was aware of what was going on, I could no longer run from it, and so it consumed me.

I have written a blog post previously about experiencing suicidal thoughts within the context of DID.
The truth is, I know I really am in trouble when it's me who's feeling suicidal, as opposed to another part of me.
I feel as though I am the one who is supposed to be holding everything and everyone in my head together.
When I begin to 'break' it just seems to exacerbate the feeling of being out of control as well as the anxiety associated with the way I'm feeling.
This may appear a bit of an odd reflection, but being 'the host' in a DID system - the one who should be 'in charge' or at least in the 'driver's seat' of my life - when I personally experience suicidal thoughts and struggle to manage them, I feel that not only am I letting myself down, I am letting them down also.
The particular night in question - I really scared a younger part of me with some of the things I was thinking about doing.  I am still struggling in some ways to come to terms with my guilt for what I put her through.

The specifics of that particular Tuesday night are hazy to say the least.
What I do know is that I didn't necessarily want to die as such, I just wanted to fall asleep and never wake up, because I couldn't withstand the noise and chaos of the way I was feeling for a moment longer.
I fell into that place again of feeling like a burden to everyone - not being worthy of asking for help.
I would say I hesitantly and reluctantly reached out for help - that has since bothered me.
I guess the point is I reached out for help enough - enough for a very lovely friend to realise that I definitely wasn't okay.
I tend to perceive my point of being in crisis as when I quickly lose all confidence in my ability to keep myself safe - I was definitely at that point.
Coupled with that, I felt incredibly ashamed about how I was feeling.
As an adult, I 'should' be able to keep myself safe.
I used the word 'should' excessively during those weeks of my life.
Reflecting back, I realise the word 'should' was quite superfluous to the situation.
There can be no 'should' or 'shouldn't' in the way you feel.
The reality was that I was not feeling able to keep myself safe.
I needed help, even though I may not have wanted to fully admit it.  Luckily, thanks to a friend who came round my flat in the middle of the night, and to whom I couldn't be more grateful for - I received the help I needed.
I don't think words can fully reflect my gratitude, maybe not just now, but one day I hope they well.

I was not just experiencing this current 'crisis' in its own right - I was experiencing it within the context of a crisis occurring before in my life.
Whenever what I am experiencing starts to resemble 'a crisis', or involves similar kinds of things to what constituted my crisis before - it generates a lot of anxiety.  It feels very much like a trauma response - I definitely found the experience of being in crisis traumatic.
The main thing I start worrying about is hospital - a place associated with terrible memories.
Suddenly hospital starts feeling like a real threat again.
Needless to say, I am not in hospital, nor have I been at any point during this difficult period - that means a lot to me.
The day after 'that Tuesday night' I spoke with my therapist.
She agreed that while I was at the level of risk that would normally require hospital treatment, we would do everything possible to manage this crisis at home with additional support.  She agreed that I would find a hospital environment too traumatic, so we needed to do our best to manage this a different way - I had a plan.
Just having a plan can feel like such a huge step in the right direction.
I can't tell you how relieved I am to have stayed out of hospital - I know that in the long run, it will really help build my confidence to reflect back and remember that I managed this trying time without going into hospital.

I'd love to be able to say that I am now 'out of the woods' as it were, as I feel so desperate to just reach a remotely regular level of stability for me.
At times it has felt like I have started to hit some form of stability...
I wouldn't exactly call it a light at the end of the tunnel, there's always plenty of light around anyway in spite of how you may be feeling - it's just a matter of noticing it.  For me, stability merely seems to consist of struggling at the level that is regular for me - it might not sound overtly positive, but it is realistic - you can't just wipe away years of unresolved and unprocessed trauma straight away, however much I wish that was possible.
When I've temporarily hit what begins to resemble some stability, it often feels as though it wouldn't take much to tip me over the edge again.
Over the past few weeks, some things have popped up unexpectedly that have tipped me over that dreaded edge again.

This week has in fact been pretty hellish to say the least - I find it surreal and emotional to reflect on all that happened.
At the beginning of this week, I came away from a meeting at uni, which in my mind went diastrously, and all I could think about was ending my life.
I feel ashamed and embarrassed that something that sounds so trivial could be the 'thing' that pushed me over the edge again despite my quest for stability, but that was my experience, that was my reality.
Maybe it would be more accurate and fairer to myself to say that actually that day there were only two things I could think about - ending my life, or ringing my therapist.
Obviously, the latter was the option I chose...
It still mystifies me how my therapist managed to talk me down from how I was feeling and seek safety, but she did, and I couldn't be more grateful.
Throughout this week, I have found myself reflecting several times on just how fortunate I feel to have the support I do.  I have felt cared for, and cared about - people care if I live or die, and that counts for a lot - I am not alone with what I've been feeling and experiencing.
I also take comfort in the reality that while on Monday I may have felt as though I wanted to end my life, I certainly don't feel like that today.  I didn't feel like that yesterday, or the day before, or the day before that.  I've actually even felt quite excited by some aspects of my life this week!  The extremes of my experiences within the space of a week, both overwhelm me and reassure me.
Life with DID can be a real rollercoaster at times, but it can be reassuring to witness just how quickly suicidal thoughts and urges can come and go.
It may seem like quite an inappropriate choice of film to watch this week, given the circumstances, but I have found it very helpful to watch 'About A Boy' this week!
There is a line in it where Fiona, Marcus' mum, assures Will that she has no plans at current to end her life - "Well, not at the moment!"
I find that line so relatable at the moment!

I believe I've written about this previously, but when your mental health reaches a crisis point, you quickly lose a lot of confidence - confidence in keeping yourself safe, confidence in living, confidence in simply being 'okay'.
This 'crisis' has been no different - more than anything I have scared myself silly.
I keep trying to hold onto the hope that some of the stability I've found is here to stay in my life, preferably for the long haul.
If I've learnt anything from my previous crises, it's that there isn't always that
'light bulb' moment signaling that the worst is over and better times are to come.
It doesn't mean that there aren't better times ahead - darkness just fades gradually I find.

Writing this blog post has been quite a journey in itself - I have attended to it in a sporadic manner, questioning several times whether there was any 'point' in pursuing it.  Somehow, as it's unfolded, I've realised there has been every point to it...
Just putting some of my recent experiences into words has made me realise that perhaps my words have more to offer than I think they do.
In any case, I've come up with an idea for my next blog post -
Managing a Mental Health Crisis at Home?
I'm going to make sure that I'm around to see that blog post reach you, and I'm filled with a renewed hope that there'll be plenty more to come from me.

Where I'm at.
Love and Strength,
The One Day Seeker

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