Body Image

Once again, carol anne inspired me to write this post with her question of the day. She asks whether we are happy with our looks. In this post, I’m going to share about my body image struggles.

If I have to be truly honest, I have no idea whether I’m happy with the way I look. The reason may be a bit baffling: I have no idea what I look like really. I after all haven’t been able to see myself in the mirror in roughly 20 years.

I do know, as a result of having in the past seen myself, that I have dark hair. However, when my husband commented recently on the fact that I’d gotten a grey hair, I had no idea what it’d look like. I have been able to see my father with a lot of grey hair, but that’s still different.

Of course, unlike what sighted people commonly believe, blind people are not immune to body image issues though. Carol anne is blind. So am I. Both of us do struggle with body image. After all, even though I can’t see it, I can feel that I have a few extra pounds and that my body fat is mainly concentrated on my belly. I definitely am not happy with that.

I also may not be able to see my grey hairs, but I’m definitely able to rationalize that my body is growing older. This brings with it its own kind of body image issues, as some of my alters are younger than me and as a result have not adjusted to an aging body. The most striking example is our 13-year-old Agnes, who is still adjusting to the fact that we have breasts. She has disordered eating tendencies and at one point was active on pro-ana sites. There, someone once asked whether we’d want our breasts to go away if we’d become extremely thin. Most people said no, but Agnes replied with a resounding yes.

Adjusting to an aging body also affects our attitude towards the fact that we’re overweight. In a similar but different way that Agnes wants our breasts gone, some of us actually think that we’re not as heavy as we are. This makes committing to weight loss harder.

A Profound Psychiatrist’s Appointment

So we had a psychiatrist’s appointment today. Originally, our psychiatrist had asked to see our husband too, but he didn’t want to come. I was a little late due to transportation issues, but we still covered many profound topics.

First, we went into why our husband didn’t want to come to the appointment with us. The psychiatrist was careful not to let me speak through her for my husband or vice versa. I liked this.

Then we went into our treatment goals and why we’re going extremely slowly with the dialectical behavior therapy program we’re following. Our nurse practitioner had already explained that he’d like us to fully understand the concepts before moving on to the next chapter, so that’s why in three months we’ve not gotten beyond the second chapter, which covers core mindfulness skills. There are 24 chapters in the course. Normally, BPD clients in group therapy do one chapter for each session and so they can finish the course within six months.

I started to explain how I find it incredibly hard to apply the skills into my daily life. Like, there’s one skill called observe, which is intended for taking a little distance (without dissociating) from an overwhelming emotion. For example, you can start by observing what you feel or think without describing it. I thought an example of this distance-taking was to do arithmetic in your head. My psychiatrist says that’s a step too far, as we first need to observe that we’re experiencing an overwhelming emotion (or physical sensation). Then we can take a step back and decide what to do with it. I mentioned the physical sensation of needing to use the toilet, which commonly overwhelms me to the point where I can no longer act fully functionally. (Because I am blind, in most places, going to the loo requires me to ask someone to show me where it is, which requires communication we don’t have access to when overwhelmed.) The psychiatrist told me that, if I do observe this feeling on time, I can still decide what to do with it out of my Wise Mind (DBT jargon for the right combo of feeling and thinking).

Then we went on to discuss the “pieces”, as we call the alters qwhen our mental health team are around (as to avoid self-diagnosing). Our psychiatrist asked us to describe some experiences relating to them, like how many are there (around 25) and what happens when we switch. She then asked whether all of us could agree that there is just one body, whether we like it or not. This was a truly profound question. First, she had us clap our hands and asked whether any of us are still convinced they could use those hands to cover their ears and not listen to what she had to say. That didn’t work, as we still dissociated a little. Then, she held our right hand and asked the same, repeatedly. This brought on a ton of emotional reactions, mostly wonder. We couldn’t say much, but later, when in the taxi back home, some of us were like: “I may not be able to cover my ears w ith those hands, but I can still run from that psychiatrist. Oh no, I can’t, as she’s holding my hand.”

We also went into how to do treatment from here on. We sort of sarcastically said maybe it’s going to take us five years. Our psychiatrist said that, if we truly want to make this work, to count on it that it’ll take that long indeed. I’m not sure how we feel about this. I mean, when we first started DBT a year ago, we were told by this same psychiatrist to do one chapter every two weeks and finish in a year. Of course, we found out pretty soon that this wasn’t working and a lot of other issues got in the way, so we restarted about three months ago.

We’ll meet with our psychiatrist and nurse practitioner together someday in September. Our psychiatrist will then explain a little about how to go from here and then we can hopefully decide whether we want this or not.

At the end, the psychiatrist shook our hand and said: “Now I’m giving you (plural) a hand and say goodbye.” That was such a validating experience. It was good to be validated like we’re multiple minds but also contained in that we only have this one body. As a side note, neither of us ever mentioned DID or dissociation. We think that’s a good thing, in that we don’t need to conform (yet) to any diagnostic box. After all, we don’t “want” to be DID, but we are multiple whether we want it or not.

How to Proceed in Our Mental Health Treatment

So we met with our nurse practitioner for dialectical behavior therapy again. This was our first session since I started considering dropping out. I am still unsure as to what I want, but I’m pretty sure that just working the manual in a very structured way isn’t working for me. I also wondered out loud how long this treatment is going to take and whether I think it’s worth it. With regards to this, my nurse practitioner explained that behavor change takes a long time because we learned our patterns from babyhood on.

We started discussing the “pieces”, as we call the alters when talking with our treatment team. My nurse practitioner said he wants to discuss this with the psychiatrist. I doubt much will come out of that, as the psychiatrist keeps the status quo as to whether we’re dissociative or not. She most likely believes we’re not, but wants to bring it diplomatically.

We went some into our original trauma, which involves my parents not having been given a choice as to whether I should be actively treated after my premature birth. They weren’t sure themselves and were told the doctors were keeping me alive and not to interfere or they’d lose parental rights.

My nurse practitioner also mentioned a book and movie about a person with multiple personalities (possibly Sybil). I am pretty sure my psychiatrist is going to stomp that association right out of him, as like I said, she probably doesn’t believe I’m dissociative.

After leaving the session, we were pretty unquiet. Katinka tried taking over from Clarissa, who usually does DBT, to get back into daily functioning mode. That was only partly successful. Our support coordinator arrived ten minutes after we got home and we were still pretty unquiet. We were able to calm down eventually and enjoy a walk.

In the evening, when our husband got home, we discussed the session with him and asked him to come to our next psychiatrist’s appointment on Tuesday. The original reason the psychiatrist had asked him to come is that she’d gotten the impression that we have relationship struggles. That upset my husband, of course. I finally managed to say that I want to discuss where to go from here regarding treatment.

There are several options. I could proceed as I have until now, which seems like the least productive option. I could stop going to therapy altogether or just stay with the team for med management and the ability to call someone when not feeling well. Or I could do more supportive therapy focusing on my emotional pain. This then could again be focused on several aspects of my life and it could or could not involve the “pieces”. I think that last option sounds best to me, but since it wouldn’t likely be based on a protocol such as DBT, I don’t think my psychiatrist would accept this. A fourth option, which I just realized when talking to someone on Facebook, is staying with my current team for med management and crisis support and going to another therapist for formal psychotherapy. I don’t think that’s a realistic otpion though.

She Walked Through Fire

She walked through fire but was not burned by it. Her body did not show a sign of the path she’d been traveling through the burning forest or her life. She did not feel pain. She had all feeling neatly folded away in the dirty laundry drawer in her mind. Over the years, walking through a little too many fires, she’d grown accustomed to not showing their effects. She was not burned – at least, not visibly so.

A few months ago, I read up on somatoform dissociation. It is where there’s a disconnect between your body and your mind and it shows itself physically, as opposed to psychologically. Psychological dissociation is a distortion in memory, sense of self or identity. Somatoform dissociation manifests itself in distortions to your physical experience. For example, you may not feel sensation in a particular body part for a while (not explained by the body part just having “fallen asleep”). Or you may have a strong aversion to a food or smell you normally like. You may even react differently to medications depending on your state of mind.

While it is unlikely that someone would not have physical burns from walking through an actual fire, the psychological equivalent describes perfectly what it is like to dissociate. In dissociation, you lock away the feelings or memories associated with a trauma into the unconscious. You walk through a psychological fire (experience a trauma) but don’t get burned – at least, not visibly so.

I once read in a women’s magazine about a person with dissociative identity disorder (DID). This woman’s doctor explained that everyone has a breaking point in life and this may be why people with DID may be able to hold it together for years after their early childhood trauma, but fall apart eventually. In other words, they lock away the pain and burns from walking through fire until a minor injury – hurting their index finger – tears open the horrible burn wounds. In my own case, I was fifteen when I first realized I dissociate, but 23 when I experienced this breaking point. I think the breaking point happened after I was attacked by a fellow patient on the resocialization unit of the psychiatric hospital. I wasn’t diagnosed with DID till more than a year later and that diagnosis has since been taken away, but the psychological burn wounds never disappeared.

This post is part of Reena’s Exploration Challenge #48.

Movement Therapy Again

It’s incredibly hot (yes, it’s *still* incredibly hot) and I’m not too motivated to write. However, we had movement therapy again today and I feel pretty much obligated to share about it, since our last session didn’t go well.

I was feeling somewhat stressed but also capable of communicating my feelings at the start. I explained about having fought with the therapist about her asking for Astrid to come back. I just realized yesterday how unhelpful this can be on several levels. It’s not just that it creates a fight between us and the therapist. If the one who thinks she’s truly Astrid truly appears, she’s often quite disoriented. Yesterday she did after Marieke tried to be open about herself. I don’t know whether she’s truly the core or just a part who denies our existence. I like to view us as a system as altogether Astrid, but this Astrid part is clearly not us as a whole and can still feel quite dissociated. But I digress.

I told the movement therapist that I’d prefer her asking us to get back into an adult state if we seem to dissociate. This was fine by her, so when this had been cleared up, we could proceed with the session.

I disclosed that our mind was quite full of thoughts. Actually, it was several others chattering but I didn’t say so as to not start another argument. We then did a concentration exercise. We had to move a one-meter-long stick that was standing up from one hand to the other without dropping it. Then from one finger to the same or next finger on the other hand. This was quite a challenging activity and we liked it.

After that, we did a sensory activity with a spiky ball. I was out in the body but Marieke and Suzanne were close by. I chatted to the therapist while they felt and enjoyed the ball. After this, we did a ball-throwing activity. This was definitely calming and enjoyable. It helped that the others had already had their time close by the front, I think.

Call #SoCS

I just got my prescription phone call service re-approved last Thursday. The prescription phone call service is where I can call a mental health nurse at the psychiatric hospital for support when I’m not feeling well but not yet in full-blown crisis. This is for out of office hours, as I can call my mental health treatment team within office hours.

The thing is though, like I said before, I may need to be able to call someone in such cases for a long while to come. The call service got approved for six months and my nurse said we’d really need to look at whether I’d still need it after those six months. I believe I would, but maybe by that time, we’ve found another agency to fill this gap. Such as the disability service agency I get my home support and day activities from now.

I really hope that I can someday do without mental health treatment. People in FB groups were saying that I may confuse not having a mental illness with not wanting the stigma of a mental illness, when I said that maybe I’m just autistic and not borderline at all. I do obviously believe we’re multiple (ie. some form of dissociative identity disorder), but the mental health team doesn’t believe this. Fine by me. Then we don’t get treatment for that. We’re relatively functional anyway and we’d rather not have any treatment than a treatment that doesn’t validate us.

This post is part of Stream of Consciousness Saturday.

Movement Therapy Yesterday

Trigger warning: strong language.

So yesterday we had movement therapy. We feel it’s really helping but we also switch a lot during this type of therapy. We’re not formally diagnosed with a dissociative disorder. Were formally diagnosed DID but that got changed to BPD five years ago. Our current mental health team’s opinion is that the “pieces” are allowed to be there but there’s no need for a dissociative disorder diagnosis or any form of specialized treatment. We do DBT individually with our nurse practitioner (not in a group because we’re autistic and would be overwhelmed by a group) and the movement therapist tries to incorporate some DBT too. We really try to fit our “pieces” into the DBT model of emotional/rationa/wise mind (we purposefully avoid the word “alters” as to not suggest we self-diagnose, as our former psychologist believed we made up the DID).

The thing is, Astrid is rarely out. That is, always when we think we’ve found the core or “real” Astrid, we realize it’s yet another alter. We don’t mind as most adults can present as Astrid and act pretty much normally. However, yesterday in movement therapy Katinka was out from the start (she’s one of the main fronters). Then for some reason Suzanne popped out and the therapist called for Astrid to come back. Katinka came back with some difficulty and explained that she’s fine being called Astrid but she isn’t Astrid. The therapist insisted that she may be Katinka now but Astrid was out at the beginning. It was quickly time to end the session and we were still pretty spacey but didn’t say so. To be honest we didn’t feel fully safe to go home yet (one of us was having destructive urges), but we didn’t say anything and managed to go home anyway.

Now some of us are thinking of quitting movement therapy or the whole mental health treatment altogether. We’ve run into just a little too many disagreements with our treatment team. I mean, they’re overall good people, not like our former psychologist who just was one giant bitch. We don’t need a fucking DID diagnosis (we’re not fully DID actually). We’re fine calling ourselves pieces or whatever, but we’re not going away. Now we’re pretty sure we’re going to be taken out of movement therapy for it destabilizing us. Well, whatever. If the goal is to keep us acting apparently normally all the time, then we don’t need nor want no fucking mental health treatment for that.

Starting Over (Yet Again)

I’ve had this blog for over seven years and have started and restarted it at least a dozen times. I keep being unsure of how open to be about my experience, but to be very honest, I need a place to write about my healing journey. I hope this time we’ll be successful. I don’t primarily write this blog for my readers, although I hope it’ll help some of you too. I don’t intend on going social with this blog too much, but if I make it altogether private, I’ve noticed that I miss the opportunity to interact and still feel restrained by this being WordPress. And yes, I’ve tried truly secure diary apps and sites, but none have satisfied me so far.

In case you stumble across this blog and don’t know me, I’m Astrid. That is, we’re Astrid et al, since the core of us, the “real” Astrid, is rarely if ever out. We are multiple. No, we don’t have a formal diagnosis of dissociative identity disorder, but we don’t care (or try not to care). We don’t experience amnesia much if at all, but that doesn’t make us any less real. We are a trauma-based system, but we’re fine with natural/endogenic multiples interacting too.

Here’s where we’ll share our daily struggles as well as our travels along the healing path. We’ll also post some random bits and pieces here. I hope you’ll feel welcome here.