Man, I got caught.

I am forcing myself to sit and write this.  This is like when J says she has to do things bit by bit, dragging herself inch by inch to do them.  This is that.  I don't want to write about this, mostly because I am not use to it, it is stretching, it is uncomfortable.  But it has to be done.  Now is the time.  It is time to write about stuff, when I am not fucked up.

I got caught on the phone last night with a new butterfly friend named E.  We were talking, doing the therapy story swap when she asked if I was high.  I immediately snapped as back to reality as I could, and said "there is absolutely nothing wrong with me."  So I lied.  Panic, then immediate shut down about that topic set in.  She let it go, so I guess she believed me, or she didn't and she just allowed me to lie.  But that is not OK.  She is also a trauma survivor and I cannot lie to her about reality.  It is absolutely unethical.  So I am going to tell her the truth today when we meet for the first time for dinner.  Yay, great.  I am a fucking asshole.

I've been mulling this over in my head every spare moment since it happened, and that's why I'm writing, because I need to process this BEFORE I talk to E, not WITH E.  I don't know her that well yet, and it would be innapropriate and unfair, and immediately fuck up our new friendship boundaries, and I don't want to do that.  So maybe I'm not the right friend for her right now.  And if she decides that, that would be fine, I have to be fine with it.  It does not mean I am a bad person, but just not healthy enough for her.  And I don't want to be perpetrating my crap on her.  It is not fair to her.

I'm also almost gleeful that somebody FINALLY fucking caught me.  I didn't know this, but I was waiting to be caught.  And this is where this stuff gets personal and vulnerable.  I think I am using DXM to test dissociation vs reality?  Like, if I can handle everything on DXM, then I can handle anything?  Or maybe, if I can handle life while on DXM, I can allow myself to dissociate in real life (in safe supportive setting)?  That's it.  I am so fucking afraid of appearing "crazy" or "out of control" or "not rational" that I have a major steel fucking door on anything that seemed irrational, which included allowing voices in my head telepathically telling me something.  So I shut that shit DOWN.  And I learned to concentrate.  CONCENTRATE. To the point of a laser beam.  So nothing could distract me.  And for the most part on the surface at least, nothing ever did distract me.  It worked.  Welcome physicist Civil Engineer.

But now through 3.5 fucking years of INTENSE fucking therapy with many different people, but mainly L, I have learned it is safe to let go.  If you learn when it's safe, when it's the right time.  Because it isn't always the right time.  But my problem was more that I NEVER let go, rather than letting go in the wrong places, which seems to be what is the problem for most other butterflies I've met.

And with DXM it is so easy to get to that open, creative sweet spot.  Without it I have to....  what .... I guess I have to concentrate, hah.  I have to let go.  I have to allow myself to be silly and make intuitive leaps that may not seem normal or rational.  And it is not being crazy.  It is being creatively co-consciously altered.  It is being a healthy butterfly.  Without drugs, and without being crazy.  It is NOT crazy.  People may look at me weird, but that's because they don't understand.  And I think that has been what I've been doing in therapy, learning exactly what dissociation is and isn't, completely and thoroughly, enough so that I could teach it to someone else.  And that someone else I was teaching was me. 



Wow.  OKay, so back to E. What is the gameplan?  What is enough and appropriate to tell her and what is a boundary violation to a new friendship?  OK. 1. Tell her she was right about me being high.  Validate reality.  2. Apologize that you lied to her, because you understand that invalidating a trauma survivors reality is extremely wrong.  3. Tell her you are working on it, and promise never to talk to her high again without telling her.  4. Tell her you are working on the problem, that you take it seriously, but it is not completely under control yet.  5. So, with this info if she thinks its not safe to be around me, I perfectly understand.  I am see-sawing trying to figure healthy out, and I'm going to even out eventually, I'm just not totally there yet.

If she wants to know what I think about it:
I think I can be a good friend to her.  I can watch my boundaries.  I will utmostly respect her path to getting better.  But I honestly don't know.  That's the truth, I don't know what's right.

What I don't need to tell her about:  why I do DXM.  My personal science experiment with DXM.  No talking about the creative sweet spot with her.  No talking about dissociation too much with her.  I can later, but not today.  We don't have enough intimacy yet.  We ARE NOT IN THERAPY together.  There is a difference, although right now I am having a hard time figuring out what that difference is.  She does not need to know every thought that is in your head.  You are not lying if you are not telling her every thought in your head.  That is not deceit.  That is technique.  Your insightlfulness can hurt people, including yourself, if wielded at the wrong time, just as if you were carrying around a sword, an epee.  Very useful tool, but you can't just slash it around like you've been doing.  Which is Ok, you are learning.   But really, you seem to have a talent that others either don't have or don't admit to having, and just like if you were an X-men, you have to learn to wield your power correctly.  Really, it is just like the laser beam eye guy.  Except you have to build your own glasses to control the beam yourself.  And you are.  Yay.  Cool, in this metaphor, L is Dr. X.  I'll have to tell her. :)

Beauty and Radical Acceptance (and some pain)

So it's 11:16 pm and I've made it through another day.  I am truly impressed with myself.  I didn't think I was going to make it.  I thought I maybe should go to the hospital around 11 am, but was too depressed to get out of bed.  So I just slept through the truly horrible feelings, and was able to get up to go to my 3:30 meeting.  Wow.

If I had told myself this early this morning, I would have told myself to go fuck myself.  I hated talking to Dr S today.  I wanted to love it, I was bursting at the seams when I saw she called and I couldn't wait to call her back.  But she talked to me like a robot, giving me no warmth, nothing.  I hate her for that.  Why is it so hard for anyone at program to be kind to me?  She told Carol later that she had a positive conversation with me.  HAH.  I almost cut over that convo, Dr S, so not so positive.  I just wanted to know that she was still there for me, still rooting for me, was still on my side.  She gave me pablum.  She gave me "I hear you have negative thoughts right now"  She gave me "I believe you want to come back and work".  Ummm, DUH.  Thank you, but I already knew all that.  I wanted to know you still cared about me.  And you wouldn't be warm or kind or anything.  I could have gotten more warmth from a fortune cookie fortune.  And at least then I would have at least gotten to eat a cookie.

I went over to look at Gus's halfway house today.  Carol loved it, but I felt it was very small, very congested, and I'm not sure how I would fit there.  With 6 women in it, it would be close to impossible for me I think.  But it seems like the healthy thing to do.  AAAAAARGH.   This personal space thing is not bullshit.  Why can't I find a place that understands that?  If I could have a room, even a tiny one, to myself, then I think I would be OK.  Sharing with Carol might be as close as I get to that.

I'm getting tired, thank god.  I'm going to a zen meditation conference with S tomorrow, and I'm a little scared about it, but I'm also a little excited.  I am going to walk tomorrow morning.  And maybe get my boxes ready to send back to Amazon.  They have taken over my dining room table :)

I walked down to the water a few minutes ago, and it was beautiful.  The air is cool, almost cold, the moon is full and there are whisps of clouds.  Orion was bright.  The water was much warmer than the cold sand and it felt like coming home.  I love it here.  I love the ocean at night.  I love the trees at night.  The air at night.  I love it all.

I talked about radical acceptance in the AA group today, and N really liked it.  She thought it came from the Big Book, and I was amused.  It's from DBT.  But AA's "higher power" and "faith in something greater than yourself"  feels like DBT's radical acceptance to me.  This insane optimism that they espouse- this idea that you are exactly where you need to be and that the answers will come to you and that the universe is looking out for you- has seemed like bullshit to me for so long.  But as I think about it, I don't need to believe in god, or have faith.  I just need to know that having this optimism works.  It works if I think I am going to come out OK no matter what.  I don't have to believe there is some divine hand at work, which is good, because i don't and never will.  But I can understand that by scientific empirical methods it has been proven that being radically accepting and optimistic makes you feel better.  And that is enough truth for me.  Plus it just feels right.  It feels like the best way to be a human being.  And it feels like coming home.