Normally, work helps me ground. Hanging around with a bunch of dogs is a lot like hanging around with a bunch of kids: you have to be present or they get into trouble. Unfortunately, no amount of hanging around and trying to be present with them is helping the body memories.
I didn’t sleep well at all last night. I’m sure that’s not helping either.
Last night, I told L some of the stuff behind the body memories. She says some of my relationship and sexual issues makes more sense now… it’s weird, because when I was telling her, it felt real. This morning it feels like stuff I’m making up in an attempt to excuse my choices.
Yesterday Dr C asked what else I’d be losing by choosing to believe the memories and the stories I’ve ascribed to them… she’s suggested I’d have to give up the identity of being a drama queen. It’s not exactly an identity I like, but it’s somehow easier to deal with than having to come to terms with my life being much different than I remember… give me psychosis, histrionics, and mental defect over sexual abuse any day. At least that way I don’t have to be mad at anyone but myself. I don’t have to understand my life different than I do now. I can continue to hate myself (it’s so much safer).
I’m so tired of dealing with all this. I’m tired of the memories and the body sensations and fear. I just want to be done with it all…
I get to leave early today because we don’t have enough dogs for me to stay. I’m kinda glad. I’ll get to maybe nap (since I think I got a total of 3 hours of sleep last night in 10-minute increments)… I also see Dr C again tonight. It seemed like a good idea last night. Hopefully it’s still a good idea. There’s a lot going on at the moment. I can’t afford to crash land back onto the psych unit (I just hope I don’t wear her out on me).