There are only 2 days left until opening night of the play I’m in. I’m very anxious! However, I think it is a good kind of anxiety. Yesterday we reported straight to hair and makeup two hours prior to start time. I felt so happy sitting there on the stool, my face illuminated with bright lights, applying my stage makeup. I missed theatre in all of its glory..
Last night’s full run through went extremely well. The director said it was the best I had done since starting rehearsal. I have finally connected with my character and I totally feel that I have honed her in.
My body is super sore today. I think it’s from stress and running around the stage last night.
In other news, I had a productive therapy session this past Monday. We discussed my anxiety and then, my diagnoses. Perhaps I’m not bipolar. When this possibility presented itself to me, I must admit that it shook my foundation a bit. I don’t want to have bipolar disorder. However, after being labeled as such for 7 years, I’ve come to accept it and it’s ugly features. “Knowing” that I was bipolar meant I could base my recovery on that diagnoses. I researched, I educated myself, I made fellow bipolar friends, and that was that. Now, again 7 years later, I am faced with a newer and probably more accurate diagnoses: just good ol’ fashioned Dissociative Identity Disorder.
I was casually reading the DSM-IV and stumbled upon the dissociative disorder section. Yes, I’ve been reading about DID. I’ve joined a few forums, have read autobiographies, and have done my obligatory Web MD Google search. I had not read straight out of the DSM. Each line described me and it was a little scary, but also really relieving. It was also partially comical because I couldn’t help but feel the text was written about me. Everything from hearing voices, severe trauma, association to a cult, attachment, depersonalization, migraines, curious illness, even allergies and hypoglycemia. All of these symptoms and signs were present throughout my childhood to now.
I have DID. I accept it.
As my therapist told me, there is recovery for me. There is a light at the end of the tunnel. Integration will come and I will move past my trauma.