Today I am not sorry I suffer with mental health issues. I didn’t choose them, no matter what some people think. I don’t necessarily have a bad attitude – and when I do, it has nothing to do with my mental illnesses.
Today, I”m not sorry I am a trauma survivor. I didn’t choose to endure the traumas I endured. These traumas and the resulting mental health symptoms do not make me weak. They do not make me not resilient. People can be resilient and suffer from mental health issues or trauma-related symptoms nonetheless.
Some people choose to believe that the fact that I don’t live up to my intellectual potential, means I’m not resilient. They reason that, if I were persistent enough, I would have finished university and had a job by now. They also judge my lack of persistence in these areas as a sign of a bad attitude.
Today, I’m not sorry I live with multiple disabilities. I don’t care whether you consider these disabilities valid or not. The people who judge me, think I use my disabilities as an excuse not to fulfill their expectations of me. They don’t realize that it’s my life and I have absolutely zero obligation to fulfill their dreams for me. No, not even when these people are my parents. I have no obligation to prove I am worthy of life.
People who don’t know me well commonly assume I must be very resilient for the mere fact that I’m alive. I didn’t use to like this attitude either, but then I read today’s post by carol anne, which inspired this post. Both of us were born prematurely. Both of us suffer with lifelong disabilities as a result. Both of us endured childhood trauma. Doesn’t the fact that we survived and haven’t succumbed, mean we’re pretty resilient? I think it does. We’re badass!
My name is Kelly. I am 10-years-old. I am so angry now. I wanna call my mother and shout at her and all that, but the grown-up people say I can’t. I am angry because my parents say I’m angry too easily when in fact it’s them who do stuff like tough love.
I mean my mother says “So you wanna go residential at Bartiméus?”. That’s the school for the blind we go to. So if I’m not being good she’s gonna send me away. She also throws out my toys cause she says I’m defiant because I have too many toys.
Oh and Mrs. B our low vision teacher doesn’t want me to do low vision anymore. Well I don’t care what people think.
I was typing up this memory thingy but then my Internet crashed and I lost the piece I’d written. I will try to share again.
One day a social worker comes by my house to talk to my parents. I dunno who wants it my parents or the social worker. My mother says the social worker had said I’m angry too easily and I need play therapy. I go there during biology class, which is the only interesting class in school. so it sucks. I gotta play with this grown-up man I don’t even know. I wanna flood the water tray and throw out the purple dolls in the dollhouse because ya know, dolls can’t be purple. I don’t know why but my parents take me out of this therpay after four sessions. So why the fuck did they put me into it? I mean I’m not supposed to magically snap out of my anger by four sessions of stupid play therapy am I?
I’m confused now. Yes I’m angry. My parents say I wanna make them miserable. I have stopped caring. They’re gonna put me in residential if I don’t stop playing with my toys anyway and yet I’m suppose to play with this grown-up during biology class. I’m so angry. I don’t know why, cannot write it in English or maybe not even in Dutch either. I’m just pissed off.
Trigger warning: strong language.
So yesterday we had movement therapy. We feel it’s really helping but we also switch a lot during this type of therapy. We’re not formally diagnosed with a dissociative disorder. Were formally diagnosed DID but that got changed to BPD five years ago. Our current mental health team’s opinion is that the “pieces” are allowed to be there but there’s no need for a dissociative disorder diagnosis or any form of specialized treatment. We do DBT individually with our nurse practitioner (not in a group because we’re autistic and would be overwhelmed by a group) and the movement therapist tries to incorporate some DBT too. We really try to fit our “pieces” into the DBT model of emotional/rationa/wise mind (we purposefully avoid the word “alters” as to not suggest we self-diagnose, as our former psychologist believed we made up the DID).
The thing is, Astrid is rarely out. That is, always when we think we’ve found the core or “real” Astrid, we realize it’s yet another alter. We don’t mind as most adults can present as Astrid and act pretty much normally. However, yesterday in movement therapy Katinka was out from the start (she’s one of the main fronters). Then for some reason Suzanne popped out and the therapist called for Astrid to come back. Katinka came back with some difficulty and explained that she’s fine being called Astrid but she isn’t Astrid. The therapist insisted that she may be Katinka now but Astrid was out at the beginning. It was quickly time to end the session and we were still pretty spacey but didn’t say so. To be honest we didn’t feel fully safe to go home yet (one of us was having destructive urges), but we didn’t say anything and managed to go home anyway.
Now some of us are thinking of quitting movement therapy or the whole mental health treatment altogether. We’ve run into just a little too many disagreements with our treatment team. I mean, they’re overall good people, not like our former psychologist who just was one giant bitch. We don’t need a fucking DID diagnosis (we’re not fully DID actually). We’re fine calling ourselves pieces or whatever, but we’re not going away. Now we’re pretty sure we’re going to be taken out of movement therapy for it destabilizing us. Well, whatever. If the goal is to keep us acting apparently normally all the time, then we don’t need nor want no fucking mental health treatment for that.