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Melody's Story - part 4

I had planned on making a statement to the police about my dad only a few weeks after confronting my mother.  Unfortunately, that didn't happen.  My confrontation with my mom left me weak and low, and I was having trouble with coping as well as I usually did.  Thus, I was advised by my counselor to wait.  I needed to be strong and ready when I came forward with my story; otherwise, I could crash and end up in a world of trouble.

As much as I wanted to get it all over with, I followed my counselor's advice and did not give my statement to the police.  In a way, i knew she was right.  I was having trouble coping, and going to the police was going to take a lot of strength.  I just didn't have that strength.  So I focused on trying to heal and cope.  I took a lot of steps backward, and not many steps forward.

My eating disorder bloomed into full swing.  It had been getting worse before I confronted my mom; afterwards, it hit an all time high.  I began to binge and purge every day... sometimes up to three times a day.  I got to the point where I couldn't eat without purging, even if I had eaten healthy and safe foods.  My body became weak.  I started having physical problems.  When I finally trusted my counselor enough to tell her about it, she immediately took action.  I needed specific treatment in that area, she said.  She began to investigate options.

Meanwhile, my dissociative coping skills increased.  I began to numb so much that I couldn't remember things.  I would have periods of blackouts where I would find myself somewhere without remembering how I got there.  It was very scary.  My counselor suggested that I might have Dissociative Identity Disorder.  Putting a name to my problem was even scarier.  I feared I was going crazy.  It was hard to see this coping skill in a positive light.  Yes, it had helped me survive as a child... but now I wanted it to go away.  All my life I had feared I was crazy because of the things that I thought happened to me and the things I remembered.  Now it was like all those fears were being confirmed.

Was I crazy?

The summer was coming to an end.  I was working twenty hours a week, going to counseling and pychiatrists at least seven hours a week, and soon classes would be starting.  Yet I was just trying to figure out how to keep surviving.

The quest continues.

Click here to read Part 5: A Turn of Events

See: About the Author for more stories about Melody