I don’t remember seeing Dr B yesterday. I don’t know what I’m saying to him. We’re having elaborate conversations about psychosis and selves but they feel very distant to me right now.

I want to see Sarah, I want to see Sarah, I want to see Sarah.

Well – to be accurate, and it’s important to me to be as honest and accurate as possible – I’m having flashes of memory. He’s Italian. I like his accent. I like the way he says at the end “Is that enough?” But there’s no emotional attachment to him, no longing like there is for my psychologist. I know I ought to stop seeing him but I don’t know if I can. Not yet, I keep thinking to myself, not quite yet. But when?

And someone seems to have booked an appointment with this third therapist for Friday. What on earth am I up to? What the hell am I going to say?

I had a weird weekend. How can I explain my experience? Me, *me*, as I am right now, which is all I seem able to trust, can’t remember it. Just these flashes, that don’t feel like *mine*. Is that how this works?

Highlights of my trip to Suffolk return to me: my father telling me that sometimes he feels life isn’t worth living, and asking me if my problem was “chemical”. My three year old nephew lifting up my shirt and blowing raspberries on my belly, and me, knowing I should be happy he seems to like me so much and yet desperately triggered. Don’t think I can talk about that to anyone, not even Sarah.

And who was imagining themselves able to go this evening to a yoga class, to be bright and cheerful and friendly? That’s not what I’m like, that’s not me.

I’ve started getting sudden headaches. I never get headaches. I don’t like it much.

I CAN’T have DID, I MUST be making it up somehow. I just need to be stronger, more determined, power on through.

For now I just won’t think about it, I’ll do what I usually do, I’ll drink until I’m drunk and then I’ll drink some more and then I’ll sleep.

(I HATE MYSELF AND WANT TO DIE.)

And hope that I feel different in the morning. Well, actually that’s one thing I can count on these days – I seem to feel and be different all the time, in unpredictable ways. Switching or mood swings? Ha! Maybe they were right when they said I had BPD?

 

 

 

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