Dissociation. in Mental Health

I did the stupid thing and went on the internet to diagnose myself. I actually filled out this questionnaire and scored… well… pretty fucking high. This questionnaire scores you on the Dissociative Experiences Scale. I scored a 37.5, which falls between “Dissociative Disorder Not Otherwise Specified” at 36 and “Dissociative Identity Disorder (MPD)” at 48. I do not have multiple personalities. I mean… that I’m aware of? I don’t lose huge blocks of times, only a few minutes here and there. Sometimes a few hours when I’m painting, but I don’t actually lose that time, I’m just not aware of the passage of it.

I’ve joked recently about having early onset dementia. Maybe it’s not that. The symptoms are similar.

Maybe I need to get some help.

But looking at the different forms of therapy for dissociative disorder, I’ve already been through one form and one of the others, well. I’ve already figured a lot of that out on my own. Like, if therapy for this was college, I could skip the first 3 years, easy. Just test right out of all that. But the thing is, there’s a combination of medication and therapy to treat this thing. Like all of the other things, it’s incurable. It’s manageable. That’s all. And I feel like I’m already managing mostly just fine.

And the thought of going back into therapy actually causes me extreme anxiety so…

One day at a time, one day at a time. There is plenty of oxygen to breathe. There is time. I am loved. I am safe. I am allowed to work at my own pace. I do not have to force anything on myself. I do not have to exceed my own boundaries.