Now playing by Creschendo is..."Desperado".

Our Year in Graduate School

Well, they say journal. Who knows, maybe it will help me with what I feel right now. Or at least if not with it to figure out what I feel. Rather what we feel, because that is up in the air right now too. It would seem that someone my age would have it all together. Well I don't. I guess that goes to show you what others know huh? While the things that happened happened my our opinions are our own. I can not say that they have not colored my perception of things because feelings always do that.

I could have written a book about what happened to us this year. It isn't even a year yet either. We moved here in July of last year. A very big city when we lived in a town of less than 3500. We don't know where anything is although we are kind of learning where the major things we need are, things like grocery stores, gas stations, and where we work. It is hard on us being in a new place because we all have to learn where things are. We get lost real easy at times and are so scared of going new places that we tend not to do this. Risk taking is not a strong suit of multiples you see.

Graduate school is hard on anybody but it is hell on persons with MPD/DID and its accompanying problems. It finally took its toll on us this last month. We kind of gave up and couldn't go anymore after I found out that I did not pass my comps. We counted so much on this and it is so much like another failure that survivors are so used to having. Well, we (survivors I mean) do not really fail but everyone drums that into your head so much when you are a child you feel like it, or at least we do anyway.

Our situation did not come on suddenly. Rather, it was a compilation of many things. Just before I moved here I was date-raped. It was an effort on his part to punish me for accepting his desire that I not see him anymore and going out with someone else. In other words, whether he wanted me to be in his life or not, no one could be in mine. Now that was sick. I say that but I still blame myself for allowing him to enter my house when he said he wanted to talk things over. I know that it is not my fault but it is not going into my heart. In fact, it only sticks in my head when I force myself to say it. Why is it that survivors always blame themselves? I felt I had handled this but it seems I have not.

Well, classes started and there was not much time to handle personal matters so I stuffed that away and kept going all full-steam ahead. That was not easy either because this new school had a curriculum that was similar to my undergraduate work but the approach was totally different. I had to play catch up to the students in this school. Don't get me wrong, my education was great and well done but it followed different theoretical guidelines.

In middle September, I attended a convention and everything that could possibly go wrong did. Due to a phobic attack on the plane and Elayne making her presence known in order to obtain help for the system, I was confronted by my supervisor about what happened. It was private and I did not want to say anything but I have never been one that has been strong enough to stand up to persons in authority. Because of the confrontation, I was forced to explain that not only do I have PTSD but I am also a multiple.

Well, let me tell you that went over real poorly. More or less, like the proverbial lead balloon to say the least. She keeps telling me that I didn't have to tell her but what else could I do? I was against a wall and no way out. Well, she rather fearfully and politely, in my opinion, took me to her supervisor and my field placement was in jeopardy the rest of the year until I graduated.

It is so hard to go to work or class or anywhere knowing that people are looking at you and wondering if something you say or do is going to make them wonder about you. It is hard knowing that people look at you differently through no fault of your own and not be able to do anything about it. It is even harder to know that you have to be so much more perfect than anyone else because the powers that be are only waiting for you to slip up and even telling you that they do not think you can handle the stress. It is like you have normal stress plus this stress to handle. It is a very quick route to physical, emotional and mental burn-out.

Well, I contacted the disabilities office. That resource had always been available to me but I never used it because to me it meant that I would be a failure again. I wanted this degree so very badly that I did it. I guess it is a good thing I did because it helped me out this past few weeks a lot. Without disabilities I would be totally alone within the system.

Well, Christmas came and went and a new semester started. I won't get into Christmas here. It was bad enough but the semester started off real badly. In February Ophelia and Daniella appeared.

I kept going and going like the energizer bunny but there was nothing inside so it took about a month to come out of that crisis. Just about the time I was getting strong enough to handle classes, work, and begin enjoying things again it was time for comps. I studied really hard to pass them. I worked so hard and was sure that things would be alright. Well, once again I failed. I made a 68 and needed a 70 to pass. So close and so far. Trite but true.

The devastation this time is still lingering. I was having trouble keeping it together. I missed so much class that I had to play catch-up to prepare for finals. I made it through field and even completed extra hours, however. Well, that made another termination incident. Man, I am not good at that. True, I am glad field is over but I miss it. Field was a purpose and we had someplace to go and something of value to others to do.

A couple weeks ago my doctor wanted me to admit that I needed to be admitted to a hospital for my own protection but I refused to do it. I still had two weeks of classes left and I was determined to complete the semester. I would not fail again. I couldn't. I was not strong enough to encounter another failure. I knew I wouldn't make it if I did. Have you ever felt like you were holding on by your fingernails and they are beginning to splinter? That was how I felt.

Well, as if that is not enough, Older kept us out of it so that we could stay alive and she made us miss several classes and even a couple counseling sessions. Yesterday my T told me that I had to guaranty that I would make my appointments or that I couldn't make one. Now I have no T. What do we do now?

Well, what they said does not work. I do not feel any better. In fact, I feel worse. I feel worse because I can see what is really going on. It is like there is no place for us to go and no one to turn to anymore. Elayne is the one who handles our rejections and terminations but she is not dealing with things very well right now. S***, no one is dealing well with things right now.

I feel someone inside wants to cut and I am having trouble stopping the urge. I do not know who it is and I am afraid that whoever it is is another alter and they will win because I am not strong enough right now to control her, or him for that matter.

Why have my alters waited until now to make themselves known to me. Some have been active a long time and outsiders have seen them and known them but I didn't. I think that healing makes things worse. It is like the blinds are pulled and the pain is just to unbearable any more. At times I wish I could go back to where I was before I knew about them. At least when people would tell me I moved to the beat of a different drum I just thought it was them that were different. Now I know it is me, or us rather.

Well, diary, I promise to get through finals and then see if I can go back to see my T. I hope she will understand us. It is so hard to find a good T. I have had two that really understood all of us. One got sick and I moved away from the other one. I miss them both.

I guess I should get back to studying so that they, the outsiders who feel multiples are "insane, dangerous, or faking" will not win.

Well, I did it. Or rather, we did it. We made it through finals. Thank goodness.

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Thank you for meeting us. Pickles  




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