Monday, November 16, 2009

Honest

It's time. At the risk of sounding crazy, I will tell you that I am crazy. I have written here and have managed to string together thoughts that are mostly cohesive. In this black and white, it looks fairly believable and even easy.

In color, it is not.

Color is my real life, played out and carefully hidden from most who know me. I thought I could write here and portray my version of black and white; the sterilized version.

But it is not the real me.

"Me" has hundreds of facets. And the more I try to hide those facets, the more I struggle. I am on the brink of checking myself into a hospital. I don't write that to sound alarming because it's not. Not in the traditional sense that is...

My head is loud, even screaming at times. My husband doesn't really understand it. I don't know that many do and it's no ones fault either. But it is loud and I have nearly reached the point of talking myself into getting inpatient help. I am not suicidal; I know how hurtful that is firsthand. But I am in a great deal of pain. Mentally, emotionally, and even physically.

I originally began writing here for me; a place to collect my thoughts and assemble my feelings. But in this black and white, I have shut out the rest of me and that was wrong. I was able to purge here and then click that little "X" in the corner and close the window of my feelings. It was easy to do because I am only one facet.

I have an official diagnosis; one that I would be horrified if most around me knew. Here, I am somewhat anonymous which is good and bad. Bad because I can filter what I write; good because I can actually be honest.

So here is honest: I have dissociative identity disorder combined with major depressive disorder. I'm not Hollywood-like, I am not "Sybil" or "Eve", and no, my head doesn't spin or my face contort. Like my blog name, I am shattered. We are all born like a fine china plate. Most parents love and protect their fine gifts of children. All plates eventually have chips and dings while others are fractured.

Then there are others who are shattered.

My china plate was dirtied by abuse; think dried, stuck-on, or greasy food. It's hard enough to clean a dirty plate that has been neglected and sitting in the sink for a few days. It's even harder to clean a dirty plate that has been broken into many pieces. Most of us would throw away such a dirty and broken plate.

I have worked very hard for nearly 4 years to clean and glue my pieces back together. It's a hell of a process. Broken pieces are sharp; they cut the hands of those who handle, love, and care for me. In times of crisis, I even cut my own hands in my frantic efforts to gather and sweep my pieces away... to make myself "look" better. My hands are cut, figuratively, right now.

I will stop for now but I did want to take a moment to be broken and honest.

13 comments:

Deborah said...

Jennifer,
You have no idea how glad I am to see you here again. I don't remember how I came across you - obviously via another blog back when I started writing, but I have had you in my thoughts ever since.

This is a place for honesty and so far, at least, I have found it to be entirely welcoming and supportive of that. It must have taken a lot for you to write what you did and I admire you for it.

Your metaphor is very apt - but what would I know, since I cannot imagine the world that you inhabit? But it does seem to be, and it helps me to understand just a little bit what it is you struggle with.

I'm just glad to see you. I have wondered at times if you had just disappeared and hoped, really hoped not.

What courage you have. Keep going.

English Rider said...

I was so pleased to see your comment on my post. You were out of sight for a while but I was sure you would come back. Let us accept and nurture whichever "You", or part of you, that you choose to share. Is there anything bad that can come from expressing your thoughts and feelings via your blog? Listen to your instincts. Reach for the help you need. You deserve to feel better. There are people who care about you. Thank you for sharing with us.

Annie Coe said...

Honey, I am so sorry. You break my heart. My mom suffers from the same disorder. You are not crazy just doing the best you can. I send you many hugs and much love xoxo

Shattered said...

Deborah, thank you for your kind comments and encouragement. I do my best not to disappear but sometimes I get a bit lost. This blogging "world" is truly amazing and I am thankful for the acceptance I have seen.

Shattered said...

ER, I am humbled by the acceptance I have here. Nothing bad can come from expressing thoughts and feelings here. :) I will do my best to keep "me" in some sort of order when writing here. I'm actually kind of excited to see what kind of communication within myself will manifest here. Thank you for caring.

Shattered said...

Annie, bless your mom's heart... You're right, I am doing the best I can. As difficult of a place that I am in right now, I actually feel stronger than in the past. Thank you for your encouragement.

PS: I hope your mom has found peace in her life. :)

svasti said...

It's been a while, but it was nice to see your post turn up in Google Reader :)

This post is brave and strong, no matter how you feel. And where you're at is this: a totally human experience.

I honour you for your bravery. And I am pleased you choose to write.

Stuff could always be worse said...

It is so good to see you blogging again and the brutal honesty is always a good thing. So glad you are in, this is life, tough sometimes or all the time.
kim

stuff does not seem to be worse always!!!

Shattered said...

Svasti, I have missed writing here. Thank you for your kind and encouraging words. You're right; this is the human experience. It's a little different for each of us but there is also a common thread for everyone.

Shattered said...

Stuff, thank you for visiting again. Yep, brutal honestly is a good thing... it's a little scarey but it is also necessary.

Melinda said...

Jennifer,

My heart just goes out to you. Although the diagnosis must have been shattering to hear--at least it can be a starting point for healing properly. Also, I so applaud you sharing this with others because it is only through people like you, who have no fear in speaking about mental illness, that the stigma will be lifted.

Take care, my friend--

Melinda

Shattered said...

Melinda,

Thank you for your encouragement. It is terribly hard to share but I am beginning to understand that the more I share, the less power my secrets have over me.

Story said...

I am so happy to have found your blog. Your writing is engaging and unique. Your story is an important one. I look forward to following your journey!