I know I haven’t blogged in quite a few days, which is not the norm for me.

I started my second out-of-the-house job this week. There are some days that I leave my house at 5:30 in the morning to work at my first job and won’t get home until 10:30 or 11 o’clock at night when I finish my second job. It doesn’t leave me with much time for anything, but we’ll see how long I can function like this before having a total meltdown (because let’s face it, one is bound to happen). I take my laptop with me so I am able to work on my blogs in the two-hour gap between jobs. I’m also in the middle of grad school applications, trying to figure out how to write my essay and who to get letters of recommendation from. So, yea, it’s been a little hectic to say the least.

On top of all of that, I have really been trying to take steps towards managing my DID. My therapist and I have been working on finding healthier ways for Anna and Charlie to let out their tension and anger. I had no concept of how ‘normal’ children do this, so I cheated and used Google. I decided that Play Doh would be good for Anna. She can squish it, throw it, rip it up…do whatever she wants with it. It’s age appropriate for her. Charlie was more difficult. As I was writing an e-mail to my therapist about it, I wrote “I think the only thing that would make Charlie feel any better is to hit something, but that’s not healthy.” My therapist then followed up with a suggestion for a literal punching bag. It made sense. I didn’t even think of it. So, after my shift yesterday, I went to a sporting goods store to look and see what they had. I ended up walking out with a free-standing heavy bag (which works, so I won’t have to hang anything from anywhere), gloves, and hand wraps. By the time I lugged that thing home on two buses plus a mile walk, I was exhausted. I still made myself put it together, though. It took me a couple of hours, but I did it. I may have pushed myself a little too hard, but I hope that Charlie knows that I did it for him. Heck, I might even use it myself.

Once I got everything cleaned up last night, I sat on my bed and looked around my room. I thought to myself how perplexing this room would look to a stranger. Coloring books and crayons in one corner. A nightstand with a tower of psychology books and books on DID right next to some canisters of Play Doh. A bed with a floral comforter and an array of stuffed animals resting against the wall. A giant body image poster behind my door, with “HATE” written in bold letters across the face. Paper doggies adorning a tower of totes in one corner. And now, a punching bag in the last corner. How could this all possibly be for one person? All of these items, so different, yet all important to me and my parts.

Now I just need to tell Charlie and Anna that these things are there for them. My therapist told me to just tell them that they’re there when they need them and I just gave her a look. It’s still weird for me to acknowledge having a conversation with something/someone intangible. While I talk to Charlie, it’s always an inner dialogue in my head, never out loud, and never anything complicated. I also feel like telling Anna especially means that I am acknowledging that she exists, and that is hard for me. I know my actions show that I am accepting, or I wouldn’t be going out of my way to make sure Anna and Charlie have what they need. But mentally, there is still a wall there that I am reluctant to break down.

I am hoping that my need to work doesn’t interfere with my need to take care of myself and my parts. I need to be able to know when it’s getting too much for us to handle.