We had a very dissociative therapy session this week. Very messy, very ugly. It was like someone had cut us all up into tiny shreds of silver paper that fluttered and swirled through this mind. We spoke fragments of thoughts, switched and changed and shifted continuously with nothing solid to hold any one thing in place.
A child alter was present when we walked out. She was disorientated and disturbed that she was dressed in a work suit and carrying a hand bag. She held the bag far away from herself because she thought it was an old lady's and she kept trying to step out of the suit somehow as she walked as though it was a costume she was trying to take off. The heeled boots just confused her.
From the inside it felt like she must have looked like those dogs that try to walk out of their dog shoes. It was both comical and distressing at the same time.