French toast


I have decided to use this picture of a stack of French toast. It’s the last time my, now mostly moved out, housemates and I were not in a toxic situation that leaves me in my room avoiding them.

I think it’s time to write about this. Our reactions to this situation have been to confront and then protect ourselves. We have taken care of us first. We have been the good person. Not allowing our protectors to behave in ways which are now unacceptable to us. This is growth.

We have gathered our possessions and kept them safely in our room. When we leave the house we barricade the door. So that we know if someone has been in our room. For the first five or so days the housemates would come back every evening and take more of their possessions. This caused great distress to our littles and what has been left active of our adult parts. It was horrific for us to go through that. None of us ever want to do that again. Then for four days they did not come back. Which allowed our system to stabilise. The fear and hyperarousal subsided. Parts came back from integrating which was nice.

It was also scary. Having parts come back different is something we should be used to by now. It’s hard to adjust to. They feel different. We get a fright sometimes because we don’t recognise them. It must be hard for them too.

So all of this is going on and I think we have made it through the hard part. We just have to get through the next two weeks and the housemates will be gone. We will be safe. New difficulties will come from this but things will get better.

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