TRANSCRIPT: INTRO
SYSTEM SPEAK: Season 1, Episode 1 (15 minutes)
“Introduction”
[Short piano piece is played, lasting about 20 seconds]
It’s Emma. I’ve had a hard week. *sighs* My husband is gone out of town for work. The children have been fine. They’ve been really good actually. And everything’s gone well. I’m remembering to start the crockpot in the morning’s so that in the evening’s when I’m stressed, I don’t have to think about dinner or what to do for them. They’re getting their homework done, piano practice and spelling words and their reading out loud and all those things they have to do. They’re getting their showers done and in pajamas and no one’s really throwing fits about it. So, it’s actually been pretty easy. I’m really grateful to them. They’re really good kids. I don’t always feel like a good mom, but they’re really good kids.
But after they go to sleep, after I put them down and tuck them in, and it’s just night, then it’s hard for me. I’m scared in the night - like a child. It’s silly and I feel foolish, but it’s hard for me...it just is.
I’ve terrible dreams. They’re nightmares actually...I guess. Sometimes bits and pieces of things. Other times, just one piece, but over and over. Other times, some horrible story from start to finish. And other times, it’s all muddled up together. I think I talked about that when I read from my journal, but it’s really bad and it’s really hard and I don’t know what to do when it happens. And so it’s worse when he’s gone. But I know I’m an adult, like it feels silly to be so scared to sleep. But I don’t think we’re sleeping at night while he’s gone. I think we’re sleeping in the day. And we’re just up all night...waiting for night to be over.
I don’t actually know what they do at night. I don’t know how to remember it or how to connect with that...um...or how that works. But I know from my watch. My watch has that thing that says when we sleep and how many hours we sleep and the steps and all that, right, and so I know from the watch that I’m not sleeping at night. I don’t know what happens all night. There’s papers with pictures cut out of magazines and things glued down on the desk, I guess that’s for therapy. And there’s Jell-o in the refrigerator. A lot of Jell-o in the refrigerator.
And the children are getting to school okay and we’re doing what we need after school. So, it’s not like anything is really wrong...it’s just hard. And I feel silly that it’s hard. I haven’t listened to any more of the podcasts yet, because it’s just too much. I don’t know how to be able to listen to that or how to learn to tolerate it, I guess. I don’t know. There’s also a lot of activities for the children at school because of the holiday’s and it really overwhelms me. Some of it makes me really uncomfortable. I mean, my children aren’t in danger, I know that in my head. But some of it really scares me. I just get so anxious. It’s also really hard for me to be in a crowd or a group of people. And so to have to go to all these events, like I know I’m supposed to be there and I want to support my children, but it’s really, really hard. And when people try to interact with me directly, then it feels like it’s too much. And it’s like I slip further and further away. Falling back into some kind of mist or fog.
I am trying, but I’m not always functioning so well. There’s a bad thing this week. I feel really bad about it. I didn’t mean to mess things up. I just, I don’t even know what happened. It was the second day that my husband was gone. So, while my husband has been gone, I’ve tried to do things. Like I said, like take care of the kids, but when they’re gone it’s harder to know what’s happening or I’ll go somewhere in a room and I don't remember why I’m there. OR I try to go get something and I don’t remember what I was there to get. I’m looking for something, but I don’t remember what I’m looking for. I need something, but I don’t remember what I need. And sometimes, I just walk in circles around my house, trying to remember what it was I was doing, or how long I’ve been looking for what I was looking for. Or what’s going on.
I guess that’s why I need help for therapy. Like, it’s really crazy. I don’t know what’s wrong or how to fix it or how to make it stop. I’m just really unwell. I’m not well. Something’s wrong. But, it makes me anxious and I keep just coming back to our bedroom and I shut the door and I lock it and I just stay here. Sometimes I wake up in the closet, but I don’t want to talk about that right now.
But Monday...what happened on Monday...I feel really bad about this. Um..it was really distressing to me. So our bedroom was at the top of the house - at the back of the house away from the front door. And I had our door closed and locked...our front door was closed and locked. I know ‘cause I checked it like a hundred times. *sniff* *soft crying* But someone came and they were banging on the door and I know sometimes there's packages. But when there’s packages, they just leave them there and go on and this person just kept banging and banging and banging and I got more and more scared. More and more frightened and I was like, I couldn’t move, and I felt so small. And I couldn't go answer the door and I just stayed up here, away from my doors, where no one could see me if they looked under the door. And I was just so afraid of the door opening.
It seems so silly, but I couldn’t do it. And so there’s this place away from our bedroom door, like back into the bathroom suite where the closet is and I just stayed in there, away from the bedroom door. Not just in my room, sitting on the couch or at my desk or on the bed, but in the back. *deep breath* And I stayed there for hours. Just huddled in my blanket, terrified. And I couldn’t move or ask for help. No one was home. Until it got close to the time my children would be walking home from school. And then I panicked because what if they were in danger. And so I grabbed my big sweater and I ran out of my bedroom and I ran down the stairs into the front door and no one was there.
So, I looked around and I went outside. And I still didn’t see anyone. And so I ran down the sidewalk, to the school and walked my children home so that I would know they were safe. But, I was still scared and so I brought them into my bedroom and closed the door and locked it. They didn’t know I was scared, I don’t think. But I told them we were just going to have a movie night and watch a movie tonight. Because I wanted to be sure they were safe. But there was no one out there.
But then later I got a message from my husband, and he said it was about the medical supplies for my daughter. That... that’s who’s coming to the house and he cancelled and rescheduled it for Wednesday because I was probably sleeping. He knew I would be sleeping during the day, while he was gone. And so I feel really bad because, who can’t just answer the door? And I feel bad because they were just bringing my daughter’s oxygen and her feeding tube formula and all her supplies that we need to take care of her. And I really messed up her schedule from not answering the door and I didn’t mean to cause any harm. I mean, she’s okay, she’s safe, she’s fine. We have what we needed, but it was like I was paralyzed. I was just so afraid.
So today when they were coming back, I tried to do everything right. I tried to have all the lights on. I tried to have all... all the other doors shut so the space that was open was limited and I knew that there was no one coming and that I would hear someone if they were coming except there’s no one here. It’s just me, I know that. I lit a scented candle in the living room and then turned on the Christmas Tree lights. And I started some oil-diffusing some peppermint oil to help me breathe and stay calm. And I did my breathing that my therapist taught me and I sent her a message. And there’s a bear that she gave us I guess. I mean, I know it’s from her, I read about that. And so I kept it close, but not where the people at the door could see it, but where I could see it in my chair.
And also my therapist sent me a text, a picture of Pooh and Piglet. Which is silly, I know, ‘cause I’m a grown up. But it was something about just wanting to be sure of you and that I can be sure of her. And I called my husband and I kept that picture up so I could see and I just waited and I had the door open so that I could see first, instead of him banging on the door. Or him coming in through the door, but so that like it felt like so I could be I was trying to be you know like, um…, on the offensive instead of on the defense. All I have to do is open the door and sign his paper. And then he puts the boxes in...just inside the living room. He doesn’t even come all the way in the house, but that way I don’t have to carry them in off the porch. Which is good because I have a lot of pain issues from other stuff from a long time ago. I don’t know.
So, I tried, I tried really hard. But it’s the first time I had to do that all by myself and get her supplies and I don’t know why it’s so hard and I feel silly and bad and foolish and stupid and awful that it’s so hard. Like, it’s ridiculous. But I’m not crazy. But if I didn’t get the supplies, like my daughter’s life depends on those supplies so I had to do it. There wasn’t a choice. Except, my therapist says, “You always have a choice. And so I had to do that for my daughter. Like, that was my choice I guess. So, I did it. And I got them and he put the boxes right inside and I signed his paper and he left. And I locked the glass door and I locked the front door and I just left all the supplies there in the living room and I ran upstairs and I locked my bedroom door and I came...I got under the covers and just cried. Because...what is wrong with me, that that is so hard? Why can’t I do that? *soft cries* Such a simple thing, just open the door and sign a paper. But for me, it was really hard. But I did it.
It’s been a hard week to be alone for so much. And I missed therapy this week too, so that’s part of it. And also there’s just days coming up that I don’t like, but I see my therapist on Monday again, next week. So that will help. I think, if I can get there, someone will get there, I don’t know how it works. I’m trying to learn, but it’s so hard and it’s overwhelming. And I feel so completely crazy.
But today I opened the door because I always have a choice. So, that counts for something, right? That’s progress because so many days I don’t know if I’m getting better or worse, because when I do things I’m supposed to do to get better, like listen to the podcast or read the journal or go to therapy, then it feels like it just gets harder and I don’t understand why it doesn’t help if that’s what is supposed to be helping. Why does it feel worse before it gets better? That’s not fair. *crying* If I have so much to tell my therapist, who I know is a good and safe person, then why is it so hard to talk to her? Why can I have so many things to say until they get there, and then nothing comes out? If I’ve been going to see her for a year, why do I not remember it? I don’t even know why I’m crying or what is wrong or why I can’t just shake it off. It’s such a silly thing.
But I need to calm down. *sniffles* I need to calm down and breathe my way through it and let it pass because you need to be okay before my kids come home from school. When they get, I won’t be scared. We can put away the supplies and I’ll do the nursing for my daughter and I can make hot chocolate for the other kids. It will be okay. Because that’s what we do. We make sure we’re okay. We make sure that each other are okay. *sniffles* I want them to be okay because I don’t want them to ever have to feel like this. And I will make sure that I’m okay so that they know everything will be okay.
I want them to be sure of me too, but that’s hard when I’m not sure of me.
Thank you for joining us with System Speak - a podcast about Dissociative Identity Disorder. You can listen to the podcast on Spotify, Google Play, and iTunes or follow along on our website, www.systemspeak.org. Thanks for listening!