Doggies and flowers

Anna made a request today.

She wants to color doggies and flowers.  She told my therapist to tell me that.

Apparently she likes to color.  Which is odd, because I go through periods where I just need to sit down and color.  I haven’t in a while, though.  Luckily for Anna, I packed my crayons and a few coloring books when I moved.  I don’t think I have doggies, but I know I have flowers.  I hope that will be enough to make her happy.

I’m not sure why she came out today.  I really wanted to get through a session without dissociating.  Hell, I want to get through a day without dissociating.  I started to talk about how the past week or so has been very low for me.  I didn’t even get into the increased dissociation, just the emotional numbness, brain fog, and wanting to die.  I find it extremely frustrating/exhausting/confusing how I can be taking so many steps forward, and then within minutes, thoughts of dying take over inside my head.  Then it takes a massive effort to suppress those thoughts and not act on them.  I’m tired.  I don’t have the energy for this.  Why?  Why do I have to go through this all the time?  I told my therapist that no one cares.  Then she asked me if I thought that she didn’t care.  I corrected myself and told her I didn’t want anyone to care.  She asked me why, and I kept telling her it didn’t matter.  The reality is that it is easier to completely self-destruct when you know that no one cares about you anyway.  What scares me is that there are parts of me that believe that no one cares about them; there is nothing to stop them from total self-destruction.

I remember trying to keep myself present, but it was a struggle at that point.  My mind was reaching that clusterfuck stage and I was starting to lose my sense of reality.  I remember my therapist coming to sit next to me and that was it.  When I came back, my therapist was kneeling next to me holding a pillow up to my hands, asking if I was back.  Sometimes it feels like I’m waking up from a dream.  Sometimes it feels like I’m just way too drunk and lose sense of what’s going on.  It’s hard to explain.  I must have been fighting her off somewhat because she joked that I was too strong for her.  Then I saw my hand, swollen and raw.  The blood was still under my fingernails.  I’m sure she was trying her hardest to stop me, but I was a 7 year-old in a 29 year-old’s body.  What was she supposed to do?

I guess Anna is still afraid of talking too much.  My therapist did say that Anna feels like I am ignoring her.  I am ignoring her, I guess.  I don’t even really know her.  I don’t talk to her.  The only way she makes herself known to me is when I find missing patches of skin on my arms; then I know she was here.  How am I supposed to not ignore someone I don’t know?  I’m sorry, Anna.  I’ll try harder, I guess.  I’m still new to this.  I’m still learning.

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