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
