Monthly Archives: May 2013


So, I saw my T today, and I was really just not into it.  My head was just empty and numb by the time I got there.  He said he had gotten my email, and wanted to know what out of it I felt most pressing to talk about.  I told him I wasn’t sure, and that even though I had read it before coming to see him, I couldn’t really remember what I had written… He asked what had led up to the email, and what the motivation behind it was.  We talked about my lack of (quality) sleep, and how that seems to be really effecting my ability to cope with things and change where I’m at.  We went back and forth about the meds thing, and I just could not come up with a satisfactory answer as to why I was being so adamant in my refusal.  I told him I was not just being stubborn, but the med thing is just something I know about myself.  I still couldn’t explain it well, so I asked if he ever had the experience of knowing himself and his body, and knowing that something was just not right for him (relationship, career, food, whatever).  He never really answered, but he did let up a bit.  He pushed the idea of sleep meds, but that was it.  He challenged my notion of “knowing” myself as maybe just fear and suggested that I talked myself into the reactions or the fact that the meds don’t work.  I wanted to walk out right then, because he’s again one of those people that are pushing things that I have tried already and they have not worked.  I was not able to voice this, but he picked up on my frustrations.  I still wasn’t able to tell him how I really felt about that interaction, but he challenged me to try.  He promised he would never react the way men (my dad) in my past had done.  I told him that was just another thing I needed to work on, and to add it to my list.

I think he too was getting frustrated because he changed his tactic.  He pointed out that I know a whole lot of what doesn’t work, but had yet to tell him what does.  I wasn’t able to say right away that I really thought I needed a balance in my life.  I told him that being in nature helped, and that being by myself in nature and interacting with animals (my own or wild) helped balance me and re-center me.  He challenged me to get out and reconnect with things.  I told him my barriers to effectively doing that.  He suggested that he will make it homework of sorts: I have to get out several times a week by myself to just breathe.  It came about from the discussion of feeling that fear/unease of going to sleep at night, and my hypothesis that is it because the night is the only quiet time to just relax with the animals and not have to interact with others.  He told me to take the dogs for walks, go to the beach, head out to the park, hit up the Everglades and just be.  I will need to take him up on this… I know it centers me and I need that lately.

One day when I was still in school, I was having a particularly rough day.  I threw my favorite CD into my discman and headed out to the woods.  My big trans cat followed me.  S/he jumped around the leaves and would come for petting, then head out again.  It was a really windy day.  I was so lost in my music and myself that day.  I sat on a boulder a few yards into the woods.  When I looked up at one point, I was suddenly in the middle of a small herd of white-tail deer.  Two of the younger ones were about 4 feet from me, craning their necks to get a sniff.  I looked at them, and did not move.  My cat played amongst the deer and would come back to me, then go off again.  We were like that for a few precious minutes, then the wind broke a large tree nearby.  It startled the deer and they bolted, but before that, we were at ease with one another.  I think it helped that my cat was about the size and color of a raccoon and interacting with me.  I think it made the deer feel somewhat safer in approaching.  They certainly knew I was there… It was such a Zen, calming moment.  I had forgotten about it until earlier this week… I need to keep that kind of stuff up.  I need to play with my animals more, and take time to myself.  Everything seems so chaotic around here, I need a place to just be.

After my session with D, I decided to go out to the beach.  It was overcast and windy, and I was hoping the sky would open up and pour down on me while there, but that did not happen.  I walked the beach.  I looked at the treasures found along the wrack line… I think there were a few egg cases from some type of mollusk, but I am not sure what they were from.  There was also a variety of seeds.  I walked in the waves.  I had rolled up my pants, but the waves were very choppy.  I ended up getting soaked up to my upper thighs.  I didn’t really care… It was nice to be there.  I definitely need to do that more often.

and apparently:

Words Fail You – Kris Delmhorst

This could easily be a song from my wife to me… I love Kris, and have listened to her for many years, but only noticed this song tonight.  I can’t believe I hadn’t paid attention to it before.  Also, she is awesome live.  I highly recommend seeing her if you can.

We met with a couple’s therapist today… I think she will be good for us, especially for those times that the words fail me.

words fail you

I’ve been dying this whole evening just to reach out for your hand
And I’ve been trying to keep believing that I might ever understand
Now the hour is getting late, and the moon is sinking low
You find yourself in such a state with so far still to go

And I know words fail you
Words fail you
I know words fail you
And I know sometimes I do too

Now this toyota is getting crowded with all the things that no one’s saying
And if I opened up my mouth now I think I would be praying
I watch you fight your demon, don’t know when to step in
You wrestle with your angel cause you hate to let it win

And I know words fail you
Words fail you
I know words fail you
Well baby sometimes they fail me too

You hatch your little fishes, throw them straight out in the cold deep sea
You’re hatching out a hurricane, trying to keep it all from me

and I know words fail you
Words fail you
I know words fail you
And I know sometimes I do too

© 2001 kris delmhorst/big bean music/ASCAP

that void where help does not exist

I went to that psychiatrist appointment this morning in hopes that they would be able to hook me up with additional help.  That is what the hospital told me anyway (of course, they also told me I had an actual appointment and not the walk-in situation is really was. So much for them being reliable).  When I told the intake clinician that I was not interested in med management, she said that was the only thing they would be offering me.  She suggested I come back if I ever changed my mind about meds.  Well, thanks… So I wasted over an hour of my time and $3 just to be told that you can’t help me.  I should have asked for my $ back, because even though it is only $3, when you are unemployed with no prospects of getting money any time soon, every $3 is precious.   The only helpful thing was that she gave me the number to social security so I can get a worker to help me sign up for disability benefits.  Well, that is progress I guess.

I wish it was easier to access help down here.  At least up north they helped me sign up for benefits and offered support more than just medications management.  I feel like I am stuck doing all this on my own, and it is so utterly overwhelming…

I just don’t have the energy anymore.  I have no interest in the things I know deep down I love and bring me joy (or at least some measure of peace).  My urge is to push everything and everyone away.  I’m in the phase of wanting to sell most of my reptiles (a lot of the lizards) because the snakes are easier to care for, and my depression would not impact them as intensely as it would the geckos… I want people to leave and let me be.  I want to try stupid, risky things in hopes that something brings some relief.  I didn’t get any relief from the intense weight of everything until I was borderline hurting myself (though I am unsure if it was the release of anger, the almost-crying, or the physical pain of hitting the bed and smacking the boards underneath by accident).  I want to say it was the emotional release, but my history with self-harm points to the pain being the cause of the respite from the emotional turmoil.

I am so, so, so tired.  I’m losing the will to keep struggling against this crushing weight.  I’m just out of energy.

I see a psychiatrist tomorrow morning for the first time in a long time (outside of the hospital stay last week).  I am unsure what his or her reaction will be to my refusal of meds.  I don’t want to give him or her the impression that I am a danger to myself.  I don’t need to be back on a locked unit at this point… But that irrational fear of this person interpreting what I say as a suicide threat and locking me up again is looming.  The last time I saw an outpatient psych, that is what happened.  The situation is different now though.  I am not in the same emotional place I was that time, so there is no reason to lock me up, but the fear is there.

My head and heart hurt.  My body and mind are tired of this fight.  K challenged us to weave positives into our days today.  She is all about the positive affirmations, which I find ridiculous.  I need to start smaller, and not challenge those negative beliefs head-on because I tend to lose that way.  The smaller things I can handle.  The huge ones spring so many defenses.

Also, I declined the rehab job… I just can;t do that to myself right now.  I know I would give and give and give, and they would just keep taking.  I don’t have that much left.  I don;t want to risk it. Sometimes you just have to know your limits and take care of yourself despite the outside pressures to do otherwise.  This is me remembering to say yes to myself before I say yes to someone else.

buckling under myself

there are just some things that cannot be expressed to another human being because of the risk involved… and the weight of it is crushing.  I just left the hospital, and it all hits again.  there’s no use in fighting it.  the win will never come, so what’s the point?

there are definitely 2 parts (if not more) to me.  not DID, but just over-bearing attitudes that take over at various times.  i wish it would all just go away.  I’m so tired of this.

Brain mush

So,  I ended up taking some vistaril last night at like 2 am to help finally sleep.  Only it hasn’t worn off yet 10 hours later and I can’t function.  My brain is mush and my body is not moving when I will it.  This is frustrating.
My body is hyper-sensitive to medication,  so if I haven’t been on it in a while,  it will kick my ass. Case in point.

☆9:30pm☆ – brain is still mush. It feels like wet cement. I even had a nap earlier and it didn’t help. This sucks. No more full dose of Vistaril for me, just 25mg and only if absolutely necessary. :/

also, I have developed a fear of sleeping at night… not fear exactly, just anxiety around it… I think that is why I was up so late last night… I feel the same again tonight. I will have to try to explore what and why it is. This is new since the hospital. I can’t attribute the fear/anxiety to anything in particular (like nightmares or anything), but just a general unease about going to bed at night. Really not sure where it came from… I can nap easily during the day, but there’s something about going to bed at night that has me anxious. weird.

Gossip in Red (tiggering)

Shh… Pull up a chair and get comfortable.

Did you eat recently?

You might not want to stay for the tale then.

It’s quite the “edge of your seat” ear candy…

There’s something I need to tell you.
It’s quite messed-up and

It brings release.
But more than that,
It’s a high.
I start, and suddenly

One drop, and I’m hooked
The more, the better.
The darker, the redder
The higher the risk
The better it feels.

Why not skydiving?
Well, there’s no red involved.

It’s like a drug.
The faster it flows
The better it feels
The more I want it

It did not start out that way.

It started to…

Well, it started to bring me…

I wanted to finally…

How can I say this without saying it?


When your body betrays you
And you head is full of memories
And your body is full of sensations
You just need to settle them to bed.

It started as a release.
Then the reinforcer came,
And it took over.
There was nothing left to bleed out,
but the blood was what drove me.

I didn’t want to stop
but there was almost nothing left.
My body betrayed me yet again.
(This time the severed vein cinched up
to keep me alive long enough to get to safety)

I didn’t want to stop
I didn’t want to go

Sometimes you do things for others
because you care about them
more than you will
care about yourself

and because I trusted her
and because she was scared
and because…

I became scared

Cuts like that don’t just
and heal on their own
and that was not
in the plans (with this anyway
– there are pills for that)

So off to the Doctor who
Sends you to the ER
Where they wonder how
You are still upright
Because you left about half
Your volume in her office…


I forgot about the fun of detoxing from meds…

So apparently even 3 days on an anti-depressant can cause a pretty crappy detox. I feel light-headed and dizzy and SO tired. I wish I had never agreed to take the meds, but I did not think they would have released me as easily if I was being “resistant to treatment”… the after-math just sucks. I only sleep about 4 hours a night. I spend hours on my phone online to try to pass the time until the sun rises. It’s frustrating. I wish it wasn’t a long weekend… I wish I could process some of this with D, but that will have to wait until Tuesday afternoon. Until then, I have to just remember to breathe through all of this.

The story of Dotty: The Suicidal Rag Doll (possibly triggering drawings and story)

Dotty is my original image and concept.  Please do not use her without express written permission from me.  She is my story, and she holds a sacred place in my heart and head.  While I am putting her out here for all to see, she is still my private world, and I would like to keep her being respected throughout her journey… in short: hands off, she’s mine! 😉

Dotty is a sad little one… She came about during a hospitalization a few years ago and spilled out in a series of drawings.  The first is the most detailed and I spent the most time on it.  Her story started with a single sketch that I ended up spending over an hour on.  The rest came quicker and I struggled to keep the momentum going.  The drawings varied in detail, and most of the last ones lacked effort beyond the basic sketch of the idea (crappy shading and detail, hurried drawings to be able to move on to the next scene).  I had not drawn her for about 2 years, but picked her back up this past week in the hospital.   This time she was not suicidal, just sad and defeated.  I have 2 more elements to add to the scene before I call it finished, but I will post the last one then.  Most of the titles are song titles that fit the image, but the images don’t necessarily depict the lyrics.  The lack of backgrounds is as deliberate as it is lazy – much of my struggles are fought in the vacuum of my head.

Dotty is a suicidal rag doll.  She just can’t get it right. She has tried to kill herself many times, but always fails.  Maybe it’s because she is not truly alive that she cannot die… She parallels my struggles and journey to healing. While I have not attempted suicide as many times or in as many ways, Dotty brings to light the images that have floated through my head or events that have happened in my life either figuratively or literally.  I have never really strung together her story in any comprehensive way before, but this is my best interpretation of her.  I say this because, while she parallels my own story, and is rooted in it, she has a story of her own that I attempt to bring to life (or death) in my drawings.

The first time we meet Dotty: 1) Gravity

Dotty - Gravity

Dotty has tried to hang herself, but soon realizes that she doesn’t breathe, so suffocation will not work.  Also, she weighs about as much as a feather pillow… So much for that.  Next.

2) Bullet With Her Name on it

Dotty - Bullet_With_Her_Name_On_It

Dotty tried to shoot her brains out, but only stuffing suffered…  The dog has done worse damage in the past.

3) Far Away

Dotty - Far Away

Drowning does not work when your body absorbs the water.  Oh, and she has no lungs.

4) Bliss

Dotty - Bliss

Pills only make her high.  Good effort Dotty.

4) Laws of Illusion

Dotty - Laws of Illusion

She sees her reflection, but does not connect.  This “together” little doll in the mirror cannot possibly be the container of the mess in her stuffing-filled head.  She looks at her image and is constantly amazed that there is anything even remotely “human” looking back at her… She will often stare at that doll in the mirror and not comprehend how she and the image are related.

5) These Things

Dotty - These Things

She tries to drown in the river, but the rope slips from her leg and she floats back to the top.  (Dotty, here’s a tip: you don’t have lungs, and can’t breathe, so cutting off your air supply does nothing.  What were you trying to accomplish here?)

6) Seeing Red Again

Dotty - Seeing Red Again

She slices her pain away, but they just stitch her up and throw her back to the toy chest.

7) Lost

Dotty - Lost

Dotty sits alone in the corner, a forgotten toy.

8) Inside Out

Dotty - Inside Out

She tries to eviscerate herself, but they blame it on the dog again, patch her up, and put her back on the shelf.  They don’t know that she was trying so hard to rid her insides of the memory of the dog.  They see a broken toy and fix her up, then put her out of reach so it doesn’t happen again.  They are baffled when the dog gets her over and over again… They don’t realize she is trying to show her darkest secrets.

9) What A Wonderful World (done by my wife)

Dotty - What A Wonderful World

Dotty tries electrocution.  What a Wonderful World plays in the background as her brain fries.  Who needs ECT when you have a good-ole-fashioned socket?

10) Oh oh oh I’m on Fire

Dotty - Up in Flames

She burns herself, or at least tries.  Damn those flame-retardant fabrics they make toys out of these days.

11) Left Behind

Dotty - Left Behind

Her friends and family take off as fast as they can, leaving Dotty behind to deal with her own hell.  She tries to catch up, but the train is long gone out of town.

12) Stuck in the Land of the Living

Dotty - Stuck in the Land of the Living

They pump her full of drugs and drag her back to life.  They tie her to the bed so she can’t hurt herself anymore before they drug her up to a stupor… This is not what she had wanted.  This was not her intent.  She just wanted an escape.

14) yet to be named… but I will put it up as soon as it’s done.

Dotty #14

Dotty #14

15) Don’t have a name for it, but was done around 11/14/13 (nowhere near complete, but as “complete” as it’s going to get anytime soon).


Dotty came by to see why I was crying.  She didn’t realize how deep the tears had gotten.  When she tried to step through the puddle, she fell in past her head… Oops!

16: Dotty: in the Felt.  As part of my “inside-out box” I wanted to make a “living” representation of Dotty.  I had some extra felt lying around, and this is what came out of it.  I wish I had stitched her face a bit better and that you couldn’t see the awkwardness under her “skin”… oops!  Better job next time I guess.  (I hadn’t sewed anything by hand in about 15 years and even then I was a total amateur). Presenting Dotty in 3D:


16) Spark.  Not totally sure where in the line-up this fits.  I do not know if it was done before or after the official “first” Dotty drawing, and I didn’t put a date on the file name (the original is in storage).  I know it was done in 2010… So I guess it fits somewhere in the first 13.  It was an entry for a contest to visualize the Tori Amos song “Spark” off of her From the Chiorgirl Hotel album.

Dotty: Spark  (A lost Dotty sketch)

Dotty: Spark (A lost Dotty sketch)

17) Dark Dotty (Art Journal piece on contrasts: light and dark). The best answers are the ones you discover within yourself, until you come up with something better. You have to discover something better Dotty… (5/31/14)

Art Journal/Dark Dotty


18) Dotty Finally Does It. She pooled all her resources and made her best effort… It didn’t work. She was quite upset after. (7/30/14).

Dotty Finally Does It

Dotty Finally Does It

19) WTJ Dotty: Crack the Spine. Dotty heard about my Wreck This Journal fun and wanted to check it out for herself. She got all excited when she found the page about cracking the spine. She liked the idea that was there, but thought she could pull it off better. I told her it was fine. I didn’t bother to remind her that she has no spine (Snoopy might break it to her though. He’s thinking about it)… (November 2014?)

Dotty: Crack the Spine

Dotty: Crack the Spine

20) Dotty in 8-bit. She really liked the graph paper and wanted to pay homage to early digital graphics… The whole story of this one can be found here. (June 7, 2015)

Dotty in 8-bit

Hospitals suck for therapy, but can keep things contained…

I ended up going to the emergency room later Tuesday morning.  I had talked to my therapist’s supervisor,  and she gave me an er that had a decent reputation for dealing with emotional crises.  It took about 6 hours of waiting in the er before they admitted me upstairs,  but they finally did.  It was quite a different experience than what i had up north.  This hospital was on par with the worst one up there.  Private conversations were had in community areas.  They did not really listen at all to what i said,  then accused me of lying and trying to hide facts.  The programming was weak,  and about half the staff was on a power trip (the other half was awesome and treated us like people who were going through some tough stuff).  I was not included in the decisions around meds.  I was not included in discharge planning.  And i was constantly told that my unusual physical symptoms were just anxiety… turns out the combo of meds i took that first night caused a mild stroke the following day,  as well as possibly a mild heart attack.  I was told by the nurses that meds often caused weird side effects but that they would go away in a few days.  The doctor was the one who brought up the possibility of a mild stroke… they insisted on checking something that was part of my history,  but chose not to call the neurologist because i did not have insurance and the hospital would have to have swallowed the bill.  I saw a clinician once,  and the doctor only in passing (I think i may have seen him for a total of 5 minutes in 4 days).  I was not allowed a hair brush because it may be a weapon.  We were treated like misbehaving children, and it was like pulling teeth to get a full meal.  I was reprimanded more times than i care to count for asking to have simple courtesies, like having private conversations in private locations,  and being respected when saying i don’t want to talk about things for the millionth time with yet more students… all-in-all, the only helpful things were the safety and the number to the sexual assault center.   I will not be taking the meds they discharged me with because they failed to listen to the fact that meds do not work well for me (and they caused a whole host of new medical concerns).  I will however, take the psychiatrist appointment they set me up with as its an in to get some more services from that organization.  They will have to be ok with me refusing to take medications…
I wish mental health services were not so demeaning and difficult to access.  Part of me wants to make this plight public to help make access easier and reduce the stigma,  but the other part of me is shaking at the thought of my private struggles becoming more public.  I don’t like to talk about these things with too many people.  Trust is hard to come by,  and i have had mine betrayed quite a bit.  I just wish there was something i could do to get shit straightened out in my head.  I’m too together to qualify for much help,  but I’m not together enough to keep functioning as i know i could be.  I was offered a job the day before i went in,  and I’m terrified to start because I’m afraid i will screw up too much… and this one is life and death for rescued wildlife,  not just screwing up someone’s reservation for the weekend…
I think i may write Ellen and see if she could help me out.  She is constantly doing amazing things for people,  maybe she could at least hook me up with quality trauma treatment… I know it’s asking a lot,  but I’ve found that sometimes you just have to keep asking until you find the right person.

On to plan b

So,  our plan to get me admitted for a few days yesterday didn’t pan out… there was so much relief in the thought of going somewhere safe for a bit,  but I’m kinda glad that place was not the one.  It was the stereotypical scary,  run-down,  state-run facility because i have no insurance.  The assessment clinician took 4 hours to figure out i was too high functioning for there,  but at least she figured it out.  So i was sent home with a strong suggestion to try the ER of one of the hospitals nearby.  I came home for the night anyway,  and will see about taking to D again later today (though he doesn’t get into the office until late afternoon).  I may just call one of the other clinicians in the office…
I also got a small glimmer of hope about possibly having insurance,  but i will have to look into it.
The place where i normally cut on my leg is tingling.  I have visuals of what i could do there to relieve some of this anxiety and depression… but it wouldn’t really work in the long run (and i don’t need more scars there)… I wish i would have just asked them to drop me off at the er on the way home (have you ever noticed how uncomfortable it is to have someone wait with you?  Maybe that’s just the depression and drive for isolation speaking though); too many ideas of how to bow out are crowding my head. I don’t want to do that to the people i love (and that, for some inexplicable reason, love me too).  So i sit here quietly crying hoping the morning will bring some relief in some form…


it seems like so many of the bloggers I follow are hurting right now… I wish I could make it better for everyone… I’m sorry things are a mess for you.

I’m struggling myself… just have to make it through till 1pm Monday and there will be a small measure of relief when I see my T… I took a nap earlier hoping to help ease some of the discomfort and re-set my brain (it often works that way), but the dreams were filled with horribly graphic images that only made everything worse… just have to keep holding on. Urges are just urges, thoughts are just thoughts… gonna keep telling myself that and make it through the night that way… I so hate feeling like this…

little escapes

We went out tonight for L’s birthday. We met up with a friend. It was good to distract… but as soon as I came home, it all came back. So tired of all this…

feeling the need to write something creative…

but I just don’t have anything…  All I can think of are not creative in the least.  I hate when I get blocked.  Lately, I was able to paint a bit of the emotion, but I feel the need to write tonight… yet nothing comes.

Oh, speaking of painting… Here are 2 of my recent works.  It’s missing the last installation (or maybe the last 2 installations), but they have not yet materialized.  I have ideas though.  We will see.

First: There’s Something Black in my Heart


And then I did this one… I also screwed it up by poor execution of an appropriate suggestion, but I don’t have a pic of that, so you get the version before I messed it up.

I don’t have a real title for it, but the working title is: Tears/Fears


some free-verse from 2010… eh… I dunno… it’s the one I liked more out of the slew I have written… still needs work.


I told you I liked girls
Over two bottles of beer
“that’s all?!” you said
with a sigh of relief
“I thought you were going to tell me
that you are pregnant”
I sighed
equally relieved.
You said you accepted me
for me, whomever I loved

You told me you don’t believe
in tolerance
but acceptance
because there is nothing about me to “tolerate”

Then on my wedding night
you told me again that LS
was totally in love with me
and how good we would be together
you said this in front of everyone

When we ended the relationship,
you called her worthless
and said I was better off without her
you mentioned LS again…

When you came to visit me recently
and you met my new love for the first time
you took the opportunity to tell me
how much you disliked her
You mentioned LS yet again

You say you are ok with me
liking girls
and wanting to spend my life
with whomever makes me happy
and you bring up LS again
So much for Acceptance.

hit upside the head

it’s amazing how un-addressed grief from almost 2 decades ago can come out of nowhere and slam you…

Yesterday I sold my aunt’s car… she passed away 19 years ago. The car has sat unused for just about that whole time… it was degrading and an eyesore in the driveway… I decided it needed to go. I was going to donate it to Make-A-Wish Foundation, but then a guy with the same name as my uncle left a note saying he was interested in the car…

Anyway, the car was sold, and the flat-bed truck came to take it away today… I did not expect to cry… I did not expect to care that it will no longer sit in the driveway… but I did. I do.

I miss them a lot, and it was one of the last things that really belonged to them and still held the memories… The house has changed over the years, but the car has just stayed there. It’s been like a time capsule… and now that it’s gone, it’s just… weird. And sad.

reflections II

I met with D again today.  I’m glad I did.  He gave me a reality check on some of my fears.  It was nice to know that someone is faithful that I am not doomed to repeat my past.   Things are different this time around, and that means the path can keep going in a positive direction… I was able to refrain from self-harm even through some really insanely strong urges.  I can refrain from falling into the old patters of instability and hospitalizations.  

I don’t really think that I explained my “split” to him well, but he helped me feel better about it.  I also told him about feeling really evil when I smiled inside when the split happened… but, well.  whatever.  I have time to talk about that psychopathic feeling…

confusion and fear

i don’t know.  i just don’t.  things change but feel the same as the past… in therapy today, it felt like something split off and wandered away… I don’t know if it’s a good thing or not (it all feels like forever ago).  D was challenging my beliefs about myself (which had been different up north, but coming here brought the old ones back), and he kept pushing.  according to the new(old) paradigm, I am worthless and can’t do anything right… he challenged me to look at things that proved everything I do right.  his challenge interpreted as “I can’t even do therapy right”… I told him that, and he was very gentle and pc and said there is no right and wrong in therapy… I don’t remember the exact conversation, but the gist of it was him saying that he understands it’s not an easy thing to do, but that it is in my control and I have to consciously make the decision to step into that mind set… again it translated to “I can’t even do therapy right”… some more talking and reasoning on his part and the split happened.  I saw myself walking out of his office and was suddenly at the beach and floating away… In reality, I was still in his office and my more rational self took over… he noted the change, but wasn’t sure what happened, so he asked; “what’s going on? I can’t read you right now.”  I was suddenly able to think in my intellectual/rational brain without having that destructive and self-depreciating voice over-power everything.  It was weird and strange and unnerving.

I later emailed him my thoughts… I had originally only requested to meet again on Friday if we did not have group tomorrow.  In the email, I asked for Friday anyway (and maybe even tomorrow if he has time).  I hate getting thrown off.  I hate being made so uncomfortable in my skin and so unsure of my head.

i don’t know…

My head is weird. I’m half in life, half in my head at any given moment. I’m restless and antsy. I can’t sit still without being occupied, but everything keeps boring me. I don’t really care at all about any of the things that normally occupy my brain. I get bored halfway through reading anything online… I flip through my songs like there is no tomorrow (doing that usually annoys me when my wife does it)… I want to go out, but I don’t know where or to do what. I’m just restless… I dislike this a lot. :/

I’m sorry…

I don’t really know why I was nominated for another award… I don’t see this as award-worthy, or as impacting too much of anyone except myself… and I have run out of energy to thank people and do the appropriate nominating from my end. I’m sorry I’m not as appreciative as I should be. It just takes so much work to go through all that… I have trouble even just writing here lately (notice the appalling lack of entries of late). I will get to it some day, but just not yet.
I am truly humbled and appreciative of the nominations, I just… too much work right now 😦 but thank you. I will get to it, and post it officially. I promise.


Lately, I have been feeling those “terrible truths” very close and very intensely. We addressed it in therapy today, and towards the end of the session, it just hit me: I always say no, and never yes, to any of his suggestions. I fight so hard against them… As soon as I voiced that, it felt like someone stepped back and away, and I was able to “come back” into control… not like a DID episode, but just that little, blue, one-eyed monster that fought so hard to keep me feeling like crap took a back seat to the part of me that knows I’m valuable and worthy and that I have lived many years not feeling so mired in the worthlessness… I know I have struggled with worthlessness a lot my whole life, but recently it feels like it has just taken over and swallowed me up. It was weird because when I was able to get my more adult self there, I realized that the part of me that kept doggedly believing all that negative reminded me much like something from Monster’s Inc, but pouty and child-ish once I called it out… He’s a little 6-year old, blue square-ish monster with fuzzy feet and a single eye on a stalk at the top of his body… He went to stand in a corner and stomp his feet and pout with his arms crossed after I was able to voice that I know I had been better when I lived up north… It was very weird… But it felt like a veil lifted and I was able to come out from behind that mask to a more adult sense of the world… The little blue monster is not SJ, but another aspect of me… I’m kinda glad he took a step back and I’m ok with him pouting in a corner…

I also mentioned my lack of progress with finding case management… I told him who I spoke to, and what responses (or lack there of) I received… He offered to make some calls to see if he could get any farther with it.  I hope so, because I am at a loss.  I looked into the contacts he gave me, as well as hunted down a few of my own, and I got a whole lot of nothing…  I really need help getting all the paperwork filled out for state benefits, and I definitely need help trying to figure out what to do for disability… I need to get into more intensive treatment, but can’t without all of that in place first.  I teeter too much on the edge of safety/sanity to not get moving on this… but I fear failure and constantly expect it… I have a lot of anxiety speaking to people on the phone, especially when it is trying to ask for things I need… I tend to slip into my more professional persona, and it sabotages things.

I still feel like crying all the time.  My moods are still super low, then ok, then super low… Even with a bit of motivation, I peter-out fast and head back to just wanting to be in bed all day (only I have some trouble sleeping at night sometimes)… I’m just spent and SO tired… even when we stay home all day, I feel like I have no energy.  The longest burst I’ve had was 2 hours, and even that was interrupted.  Part of me wonders if I should try meds again, but then that little excited voice comes up that thinks it would be a good way to bow out… and I remember that meds are not for me (at least nothing more than the occasional anxiety pill)… The looming threat of that impulsive side is a bit scary, but I know how to keep her under control for now.  I also know that I will need to let D in on that little gem of info… I struggle with telling him because I don’t want to give in to that side (if I don’t acknowledge it, it isn’t there, right?).  But I also know it would be good for him to at least be aware of that history and be better able to help keep me safe if I do end up going off the deep end.  I was always taught to be independent, to do everything myself and never rely on others, but Dr C and previous therapists have worked so hard to get me to allow others to help me… I’m still having a difficult time striking a balance between asking for help (and/or accepting help) when I need it, but also acknowledging that I can do many things on my own.  One day I will have that balance worked out.

On a side note; have you ever noticed that people interpret you based on the stereotypes of your diagnoses?  D always seems to be trying to point out the grey area for me, but I already know it for so many things… I’m not all as black-and-white as he seems to think… Stupid BPD diagnosis, I will never be able to leave it behind… ugh.

(apologies for how jumpy this has been…)

I’m just so… tired.

I’m spent, and I don’t know what to do.  At the end of last week, my T suggested I seek some other outside support, like a case manager and a psych consult to talk meds again… I immediately got hung up on the meds thing.  I do not want any more to try.  I feel they just destroy me rather than help.  I do not know how to effectively put this in words…  we talked about it briefly, and he ended with “you can still refuse, but it may be good to at least get a consult.”

The whole thing just made me feel so hopeless… I know this is what I had been asking for from the start (the added support), but not the meds thing…  I’m having a hard enough time trying to swallow the thought of applying for disability, forget anything else… I know I can’t work in my chosen field right now.  I know that disability is likely the only way to get into an appropriate treatment program. I know it is only temporary… but… ugh!  I’m having such a hard time accepting the thought of being “disabled” for a mental health thing… BUT, I know I need it to get me back on track…

I feel so hopeless lately.  Nothing seems to change that for long.  I really wish something would help, but I don’t have access to that right now.  I called one of the organizations he suggested yesterday.  They are not sure I qualify, and meds are a required part of the program.  I wish they took it more individualized.  I told the lady I would be willing to discuss meds, but that I have had very bad experiences with it in the past, and they tend to screw me up more than help.  She said she would take it to her supervisor and call me back this morning.  It’s only 10:30, so I still have time left to hear back, but something tells me it’s not going to happen.  The only other place he suggested is a place that requires a notarized letter of support since I am unemployed and with no income… I don’t want to put anyone in the position of having to be responsible for paying my medical bills, and I feel like that is what they are looking for… I just need help getting onto state benefits and applying for disability… and it would help to have some extra support, but I don’t want meds.  I’m not sure if their program requires it or not… but first I will wait to see what this other program says.  I could probably also reach out to the GLBT services center that my wife uses (and I go to a drop-in group there).  I was told they have case management, and they could also give me names for a psychiatric assessment… I just don’t want to be given meds and told I have to take them… Part of me fears that if I go and talk to someone like that, I will be forced into it… D reminded me I have more freedoms now than I would if I were hospitalized (especially if it were involuntary).  I still get hung up on some  of the worse experiences I had in the past.  They haunt me…  It’s sad that so many systems that are supposed to help people end up just traumatizing them more…

(on a side note, I’m sorry I’m not reading much lately.  I don’t feel like I have much useful to contribute… I’ll catch up again some day…)