Working on connecting internally and gaining access to memories.
Here’s something new.
I remember dissociating at a very young age.
I remember having “out of body experiences” I somehow knew I could induce it.
I remember having conversations with others inside and making mutual decisions.
I know I was very young, I was still small enough to ride in the front of a shopping cart.
I remember this specific detail of a cart, because of an incident in my childhood where I had to use the bathroom at the grocery store and believed there was no bathroom to go to. I remember, I was already sexually abused at this time. I was already taught some masturbatory techniques. I was taught to hold urine to create pressure stimulation around clitoral area. I believe I was often forced to hold urine during my abuse. This was a way to try to coax me into feeling something “pleasurable” so I would be more willing to subject to the sexual abuse. I remember because of things taught by sexual abuse, I thought I was just supposed to do this, but do it in private and not tell anyone. I used to just try to pee a small amount so i could have room to hold it longer. Well, this incident, I ended up releasing the whole flow….from my seat in a cart, and it went all over the groceries we had not paid for yet.
My dad yanks me out of the cart and screams “Goddammit Jessica!” What happened? Well, secretly being sexually abused, I had some…unusual perceptions and incidents. I was some where taught that holding my urine was good and would feel good. So i always tried to hold it. Then I started having the pain in my childhood from the holding urine and sexual abuse (pain I didn’t get diagnosed until my 30’s as interstitial cystitis, “painful bladder syndrome.”) There were several different people inside my mind and we all were really aware of each other at this time. I remember feeling like nothing in the outside world was real. Only inside was real. I thought, how do I really know if anyone else is real because I can’t feel what they feel? I could feel what the others inside felt, when we connected. That was the only thing that felt real. I questioned if I stopped existing, would this world cease to exist? These were the thoughts of a child in kindergarten (if even, could been younger) We couldn’t connect to other people, we couldn’t all always be aware to have one common experience to understand the many people existing outside of us. I remember often times feeling like I was just floating in space, a ball of light without form and I was watching my life like a movie.
Talking within, there was only a couple of us talking at this time in the grocery store. What do we do now, as we feel the urge to pee? One likes the feeling of the pressure, another thinks it’s annoying, and another is afraid of it hurting bad like it has before. I am listening, trying to be a mediator and see everyone’s view, as I am “hosting” and I will ultimately take control to enact decision. Being a multiple as a child, the simplest self care things were not very simple. Had to have a discussion on everything and understand why we were doing it. Back and forth we consider that it doesn’t hurt yet so we will hold it. We couldn’t tell our dad for some reason because we feared him being angry that we needed to use the restroom. I think it’s because of my painful bladder syndrome I used the restroom frequently and it was always a hassle slowing everyone down. I think I used the restroom just recently and was afraid to make him angry asking again. Then we consider letting some out that would barely make a drip and we could hold it longer. As we were discussing urinating, I had already been dissociated and numb to the body, and at the point I was yanked out of the cart, it was another one of us fronting control and I was numb to the experience. I saw myself, outside myself. Someone else was talking. Someone else had me moving. Questioned about why I didn’t say anything about needing to use the bathroom, I/they had no answer. They looked down, blank faced, silent, while I watched on. They said they knew there was no bathroom, but dad said he could have taken us next door to a restaurant or gas station. We were just a kid, we didn’t even know this was an option. I hid in the shadows, as someone else struggled to keep up with our dad’s long legs angrily pacing. I watched on as someone else stood quiet but with a solemn face, and trying to cover the back of our light pink shorts that had a large darker pink area from the wetness. I felt myself in tears and agony, I saw this other in control stand there looking more together than I felt, sad but not distraught to my level. My dad I believe was next explaining to an associate what happened so the mess could be taken care of….I cannot remember after this…It fades to black. I remember leaving the store in a hurry, I can’t remember if it was with or without the peed on groceries but I feel like he still paid for them. I don’t remember the car ride home. I don’t remember walking inside the house or up into the bathroom with my mom who was getting ready to clean me up. I remember taking off the wet bottoms at home.. I don’t remember anything else after or in between having to do with this incident, such as if I received some sort of punishment for it or not (on top of the embarrassment and being screamed at in the store, I mean.)
This may seem like a lot of detail and information, but really it isn’t. Not even quite sure who is who in this story. It’s just one more in a small cluster of fragmented repressed memories I have recovered. It’s just a small chip of a very big iceberg. I’m just trying to use this to get things to make more sense. And one by one we find new puzzle pieces and our childhood and our adult life can one day make sense.
We have to stop here now. It is starting to go from slight psychical discomfort to some painful anxiety symptoms. And the head aches….oh yea the head aches are fun when we do this. I don’t understand why this has to be so hard. They keep telling me to slow down but if we go any slower I’m afraid I will miss my whole life.
Anyway, stay tuned for more fragments of childhood and life memories and stuff…