Chaos and Order

Living in one of the hottest states in the US can be both a blessing and a curse. 112 degrees out side you would think I would be soaking in a pool or hiding in my house with the blackout curtains closed… but sadly I am trapped inside this chaos that I call my week.
Now don’t get me wrong, I love my job, but sometimes the stress that comes with it tends to do more harm then good. Una ended up snapping at a doctor 3 different times this week, and every time a incident report was filed.
Being asked what I said and having no recollection of it is extremely hard, especially when, even if your job is protected by ADA, they still all look at you like your some kind of… different species. Una didn’t mean it, she is extremely calm most of the time, but if you interrupt her enough, or talk down to her, she will tell you the brutally honest truth, without even raising her voice.

On top of that, Xero has decided to take up self mutilation again. He says it’s fascinating to see the blood run down his arm, but when you wake up in your own blood with cut marks on not only your arms, but legs and back? You can’t help but break down and cry. My husband is angry with me about this fact, he doesn’t understand how I can’t remember, how I can keep doing this to myself. My psychologist had to play peace maker.
She met with both of us yesterday and helped explain things to him in a better way then I could ever begin to explain it. After the 2 hour session, he hugged me and apologized, saying he understands a little bit better now. I broke down and cried, he’s the only one who has ever believed me, and stood by me. Feeling that he still can and will was the most wonderful feeling any of us have felt in a while.

The flashbacks and nightmares are still going strong, they seem to be getting more frequent. They upped my anxiety med, that hasn’t done much of anything sadly. So now they want to try a medication they use for PTSD patients. Alice drew some pretty bad pictures for people, so that they understand what we’re seeing. My psychiatrist isn’t sure how to interpret it, but my psychologist has been helping us. Its good to have someone who has worked with DiD her whole career, because they don’t look at you like your psycho, they really do understand on a level you wish most would.

My employer is now wanting me to work at night, due to the fact they think I’m ‘getting sicker’. I think they are afraid of me, it sadly seems that way when we had that stupid meeting about ADA and my service animal. My husband of course does not like this idea, but it’s getting to where I am not sure if I am going to have a choice soon….

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