Tag Archives: fear

Endings suck…

…Even stupid, meaningless ones that shouldn’t suck as much as they do.

Like tv shows that let you escape yourself.

And fictional characters dying.

Because they tug at the old hurt of all the losses that came before, and were actually meaningful…

It compounds when more than one loss is piled on at the same time. Then suddenly everything else comes flooding back, and it sucks…

The stupid, meaningless losses take on all the hurt and emptiness the previous ones left you with…

At least Lucifer wrapped up the series well, almost as if they were planning on ending it this season. They could take it further, but this is a good stopping point. They gave is the closures we needed to be able to walk away from the show satisfied.

Scorpion, not so neatly wrapped…

Totally left without closure; Chris passing away Monday. She had gotten through so many health issues over the years, ones that were true miracles she recovered as well as she did… I guess her body finally gave out. I’m not even sure if it was the cardiac issues, the kidney issues, the cancer, or something else that finally took her. Before this week, she had beaten cancer, recovered from kidney failure, and was recovering from bypass surgery… she and L were friends for a quarter century (give or take a year or two). I had only met her after I stated dating L, but she was an amazing person. She is greatly missed.

… Then the older stuff picks up; L’s dad, Chow, ButtButt, K & T, Floppers, Twigs, Tigger, Dizzy, Sugar Cane, Almond Joy… De, Chrispy, LKB… All the endings that were sudden, painful, and unresolved.

It all gets rolled into a giant ball that feels choking and overwhelming.

This time of year seems to hold a disproportionate amount of those losses…

And then there’s July 7th (the anniversary of K’s death, and almost 14 years later, my first suicide attempt… there were only ever 2 thought-out attempts where it was a conscious choice. Anything else resembling one was an impulsive, desperate attempt to find some peace, but not necessarily an attempt at ending my life… I blame it on the meds. I’ve never done anything like that when I wasn’t spiraling out of control on psych meds. Even when I was ridiculously depressed, I never gave in to the impulse when not on psychotropics. They work wonders for some people, but I am not one of them)…

Back to the original point of this post: grief sucks. Losses suck. Especially when the biggest, earliest ones were never resolved…


family

I think that word has very different meanings for me.

We were always taught separation. My dad’s blood family was all that mattered to him, so that’s all he acknowledged. Everyone else was just “shit”. He didn’t promote contact with anyone outside his immediate family of origin (foo). We were isolated from almost everyone else, and even within his own foo, bitch was top, then him, then grandma, then K. Mom factored very little. K’s husband, T factored very little. Moms family was just unheard of (he made sure of that). We talked a bit about them and to them, but overall, they were essentially non-existent (in his eyes anyway).

I’ve only recently (like maybe the last decade or so) gotten in somewhat more regular contact with one of my cousins. We chat online a bit, but I think I’ve only seen her maybe 6 times my entire life (and we lived relatively close, like maybe a 4 hour drive, for several years). I’ve seen her parents a few more times, but that was only after she & her siblings had grown up and moved out… even then, I think I can count less than a dozen times.

Tonight, my mom informed me that her brother (my cousins’ father, my uncle) had gone to the hospital for a head injury. Apparently, this happened sometime last week, and no one thought to tell us (at least my brother and I. Mom may have known, but she’s not big on communicating stuff like that about/with anyone).

When I found out, it hit me just how disconnected I am from my extended family; I have no real emotions around him being in seriously ill health… I’m not even all that connected to any emotions my mom may have around it (though she’s never been big on emotions either. None of my family has).

I feel like it’s wrong somehow, like society is generally connected with their families unless there’s been some big rupture. The only rupture was my father. I should be connected with my aunt & uncle & cousins, but I’m not… and I think I’m a bit resentful about it.

I see L with her family (it’s a HUGE family), and I feel like we got the short end of the stick.

My dad made enormous effort to keep us isolated from everyone.

It sucks.

So now I have no real connection to family. I get the concept that we have an extended family, but… it’s just not in my radar for the most part. And I’m mad.

His isolation enabled the abuses that happened night after night. His anger resulted in a fear of reaching out, or attempting to connect with anyone (after all, any connection would be promptly severed once found out). We weren’t allowed to care for anyone outside the little dysfunctional circle that happened to include his foo…

The dissociation doesn’t help any. I feel like I’m just floating in a world where I don’t belong (or even truly exist). People have no clue about so much of my life. Everyone’s merely an acquaintance. Aside of L (and as of today, our friend DO), no one knows I have a dissociative disorder. At most, they’ve been told I have ptsd, but no one knows what it’s from; they assume I served in the military…

Most everyone in my life sees this shell, this act. They might notice I hit some bumps along the way, but mostly, I’m either shy and awkward (99% of the time), or chatty and awkward. I’m the crazy animal lady with the pet snakes, who also does art here and there…

I feel like I don’t actually exist. I must just be a ghost floating around.

I never expect people to remember me from one meeting to the next, or care about anything about me. I’m the awkward tag-along friend you invite because you feel sorry for them. I’m the wife you tolerate because we come as a package deal. I’m really not sure why L married me. I’m just the awkward one tagging along behind her to family functions. I don’t deserve to be there, nor am I really wanted there, but I’m crashing the party…

I shouldn’t be here still. I have no purpose or usefulness… but here I am, tagging along in this weird body that feels like a poorly-fitting borrowed dress. If I think hard enough about it, I can kinda find some connection to the C they think they’re supposed to get, but… I dunno. It just feels like a suit, like pretend. That girl who graduated college? Not me. The one who had a career? Not me. The one with friends and family? Not me.

I’m just that shadow in the corner… nothing to notice or want to be around; no substance, no presence, no worth…


Acute pain issues (in the past 5 weeks or so)

Waiting on medical referrals to go through is stressful. I just want to figure out why my extremities hurt so much & are getting weaker, and how to fix it… also, it would be nice to skip pain killers 24/7 so maybe I could function better once again?
It feels like someone’s inserted pegs into my bones and the muscles shred on them every time I move. Moderate pressure feels good for a few seconds, but then it turns to pain. Light touch and deep pressure both are painful. Movement hurts. Heat feels better for a bit, but then it becomes uncomfortable. Cold just hurts right from the start… I’m starting to have trouble with fine motor skills, especially gripping smaller objects like pens or keys (sucks when I try to do art or write… even the Swype function on my phone is painful). Stretching feels better only because it’s a different kind of pain than what happens when I’m resting or actively doing stuff…

I really hope this Neuro referral comes through quickly, I can get in to see someone, and they actually have answers for me. So far, it’s all been “I don’t know; your tests are all normal”

Driving is really painful so I’ve been relying on others for rides since Friday (it doesn’t help that I’m taking the medical mj constantly to keep the pain bearable. There’s no way I’m driving while taking it, or any other prescription pain meds they may try to give me). I drove myself to the urologist this morning because the weather made L too anxious to drive. I had trouble keeping the level of pain under wraps without the pot…

I’m really hoping for simple answers with easy remedies, and soon! My PCP’s office resent the referral today (Wednesday) after it was supposed to have been sent Friday.

I’m trying to no longer let my brain run away down “worst case scenerios” lines of thinking, but it’s difficult. The pain and impairment of function feels like it’s growing daily. I have to have some answers, or at least some relief, soon so I can continue my job at the kennel, keep going to therapy, maintain my independence, and take care of my family… I have to admit though, I’m super grateful today was a snow day. I worked yesterday and my whole body was exhausted and more painful. I’m not sure I can do the two days in a row right now. I might have to plan to spread my shifts out so I can recover between them.

Even now, my arms and legs feel as if they were burning and being stabbed and tightly bound all at once… it’s not excruciating as long as I can dissociate most of the pain… it’s starting to wear me down though, and I’m having more trouble distancing myself from the increasing symptoms… ūüė¶


Still panic with certain doctors

I’ve seen Dr F for going on 5 years now, yet I still panic sitting in her waiting room. 

I trust her, I like her as a doctor, but the triggers around gyn exams are still huge and scary. I’m trying to remind myself I trust her and like her and that she’s safe. I’m still shaking…

This sucks. 


It’s futile

Every once in a while, I get up the nerve to try to explain why someone’s comments in support of trump are hurtful to others; that what the man stands for and how he behaves are abusive… and every time I come up against people telling me how wrong Hillary is. I didn’t bring her into the conversation, but that’s their only defense. 

I’m back to feeling like I did growing up; that there’s no escape because no one believes there’s a problem. 

I know a huge chunk of the country (and the world) is seriously disturbed by the election results, but it feels like our cries are falling on deaf ears… it’s futile to argue or try to change things…


The thought of psych meds makes my chest tight

‚ÄčI’m going to see my pcp about trying an antidepressant again. It’s kinda freaking me out. The last time I was on meds regularly for this, I pretty much lived in one psych hospital or another… I haven’t been that bad since coming off all meds 5 years ago. I really don’t want to get back to that space again. :/

I dunno what’s better; dealing with ridiculous depression and anxiety, or risking another revolving-door hospital experience. Dr C thinks it might work out better this time, especially if I stick to just an antidepressant. But that’s how it started last time… I might plan ahead and insist Dr S not prescribe anything after like 6 months, and nothing other than an a/d… and maybe agree that if I end up hospitalized at any point, we work on stopping the meds immediately instead of tweaking or adding. 


Anxiety is high today

I’m not sure why, but I’m freaking out about everything today. I’m normally ok driving places, but today I don’t want to drive. I don’t even want to be away from this spot on the couch. 

I’m supposed to meet a friend for dinner and give her the art piece she purchased, but I’m about in tears thinking about having to leave home or be social. My heart is doing the floppy fish thing too…

I really don’t know where all this anxiety is coming from. It’s not characteristic for me (at least not lately) to be this agoraphobic… I know Dr C would say she was glad I went out and did it despite the anxiety, but that’s not the bad part. I just don’t like that the anxiety is so intense around it. I also don’t like not knowing the trigger for it. Why is it that sometimes this anxiety feels so debilitating, but other times I’m fine going places? 

I want to curl up and cry and hide from the world…


Kinda lost

Saw Dr C today. We did some art. It was around the concept of a baby, and how to keep that baby safe…

It came about because of my panic yesterday around the concept of ever having been a baby. I don’t really remember yesterday’s session, but I remember the dread and fear and panic and denial around her statement that I was born a good baby. All I could think was that I was never a baby… I couldn’t even fathom the concept of ever having been a baby. I knew at the time that pictures of “me” as a baby existed. I knew somewhere in my head that it’s impossible to be alive without ever having been a baby, but I couldn’t admit/understand/connect to ever having been one.

Later, after the session (and again today), I am mad at her for suggesting it. Part of me knows it’s a simple biological truth; I was at one time a baby, but… I wasn’t (or I can’t bring myself to accept it). There’s this huge fear around acknowledging that I may ever have been a baby. It pisses me off to think about it. The image that comes into my head when I think of myself as a baby is scary… I don’t want it.

Even now, as I write this, I’m angered by the thought of being a baby… angered and scared¬†terrified. It feels like someone might die; like I might die… and my heart rate soars through the roof… and I want to shred my body into a million little pieces so I don’t have to feel the fear and body sensations…

I don’t really know what to do with myself. Whatever was stirred yesterday in session, and re-surfaced today, is continuing to stir and bubble. I don’t know how to process it. I’m not sure what to make of it. The thought of more surfacing is intimidating. It’s creepy & scary & enraging… I hate it.

The baby in the art today had no face, or feet, or hands (though I painted in hands after she suggested it). If the baby has no face though, it can’t see the scary, or hear it, or cry (and get in trouble) or smell anything. The baby doesn’t know if anyone is coming, if they are good or bad, until whatever it is that’s going to happen will happen. It kinda protects the baby, but it also scares him… Dr C was looking for something. In the time she was searching, I grew more and more uncomfortable looking at the baby I had painted. I wanted to scribble over it, or spill paint over it – anything to obliterate the image of the kid. I censored telling Dr C that I wanted to erase the kid from the page. Instead, I asked what we were going to do with the baby because it was making me uncomfortable looking at it (what an understatement!). She said we were going to to make the baby safe. I had no idea what to do, so I tried to draw a protective person in the picture. Unfortunately, she turned out scary. I wasn’t sure how to fix it. I did a few other layers but it was only making everything worse. Dr C offered to help. She drew in someone holding the baby. I added a blanket to cover him… then time was up. As we were cleaning up, she asked if the baby was safe now… I told her he was “safer”, but I wouldn’t go so far as to call him safe. I blew out of there somewhat fast after cleaning up. I wanted to stay and change the picture more, but her light had gone off (indicating another client was waiting). I also felt like I needed to run away from there. It felt like trying to make the kid in the picture safe was a forced thing and wouldn’t really actually do anything to keep him safe. It felt like a facade…

Suddenly I’m out of that head-space. I know I have reactions to things, but once it disappears, it feels foreign. Those walls are back again, and are really high and thick. It feels like all my experiences happen in isolation chambers. If I’m not in the chamber, I really have no concept of what goes on there. I guess that’s the dissociation… I should ask Dr. C what the new name is for that diagnosis. It used to be DD:NOS, but I know the newest DSM changed that. I definitely have isolated experiences, but they are not so severely isolated that I would have “alters”. I just can’t really access much of the experiences unless I’m in that particular head-space. I may know they happened (or the general gist of it, most of the time… there used to be a time where I totally had no memory at all of days or even months), I just understand them as something someone else described to me once…

I should stop writing. My head is beginning to spin, and I’m losing focus on what I want to say.


It feels weird 

I’m not sure what’s going on with me. 

I can’t sleep, but I don’t ever actually put on my music or meditations. 

I’m exhausted, but I can’t slow down. I feel like I need to keep moving till I fix everything (not that I actually can. I just can’t seem to slow down). It’s very much like that feeling of running from something, except I don’t know what i’m running from. I don’t really have that impending seems of doom, just have to keep going. 

I skipped out on therapy last week (quite possibly the first time ever), then needed to cancel yesterday’s session for lack of transportation… I miss the concept of it, but I’m not aware of any really pressing issues to talk about (or I’m avoiding them).

The insomnia is getting worse again. After a brief week of “normal” sleep, I’m back to not able to remain sleeping no matter how exhausted I feel. We went camping over the weekend and I think I got 3 or 4 hours of light, intermittent sleep. I was hoping to be able to get more Sunday night, but I was up most of that might also. Tonight, we came to bed around 11 and I was awake by 2:30… :/ I’m approaching that point where the lack of sleep becomes a huge detriment to my mental health. I need to figure out how to get more hours in a night. My usual aids are not helping or being left untried. I’ve been trying to get myself to put on my music, but there’s something uncomfortable/scary/intimidating about not being able to hear what’s going on in the rest of the apartment. It feels like I need to be aware of any potential dangers. It’s different than the times I get terrified to go to bed. I’m not terrified now, just hyper-aware and feel a pressure to remain so… I need to stay awake “in case” (but don’t ask me what, because I’m not sure)…

I hope the car thing gets figured out soon. I think talking to Dr C about this might be a good idea. I need to figure out what i’m running from and what i’m worried about happening. 

I really wish I could sleep. My brain is not shutting off. It’s like a constant buzz of white noise; I’m not consciously aware of any thoughts keeping me awake, but there’s a pressure to remain aware. It’s an emotional thing more than a cognitive thing…


Surprise! Another trigger…

There was a scene in the Empire pilot where one of the sons was remembering the first time he dressed in his mom’s heels in front of his dad. The dad got really mad and grabbed the kid. He stormed out of the room with the kid under his arm. The mom yelled after him, scared and angry…

Something about that scene hit home, but I’m not totally sure how or why. It hit really hard. It winded me and made me cry. It felt overwhelming and heavy. It still feels overwhelming and heavy… I can’t tell if I related more to running after him screaming, or watching him storm off with the kid, or being the kid under his arm… or maybe all of it? But it dug at something deep.

Part of me wants to reach out to Dr C, but I can’t justify bothering her on her weekend. I’ll just try to cover it Monday (along with everything else I want to cover – how to deal with her month away, more of what was in that journal entry from 2 weeks ago, the anniversary, the growing depression…)

I want my heart to creep back into my chest; it’s still on the floor…


Kid fears

After last session, I wrote to Dr C… well, I wrote a reaction as if I was writing to her. She hasn’t actually seen it yet.

Anyway, in the reaction, I disclosed some embarrassing/shameful/disgusting stuff… and now I feel like she thinks I’m a horrible person who she never wants to see or hear from again.

It doesn’t seem to matter that I know she doesn’t know this info yet. It feels like she would know it simply because I wrote it in the form of a letter to her. It feels like, because it’s now on paper and it was written intention of informing her, it has somehow psychically made its way to her brain. She surely knows, has suspected it all along, and knows I’m scum. 

It’s similar to the fear I had that the person I think abused me somehow knew I was saying those things after I told Dr C; that somehow merely saying the words released the knowledge into the universe and it made its way to the person I was talking/thinking about…

My rational brain knows this is not possible. My rational brain understands that there’s no way either of them could know what I was thinking… yet the fear is there. The discomfort and anxiety is there.

Do you ever catch yourself in anxious trains of thought that you know can’t possibly happen, but you fear them anyway? It feels like such a little kid fear…

I’m trying to think of what any of my therapists would have said about it. De comes to mind. She would always tell me to be gentle with the kid side; acknowledge what s/he is trying to communicate, and offer comfort. Maybe the kid just needs a hug and to be reminded that Dr C hasn’t hated us yet, I doubt she’ll start now (even if I hate myself for what I’ve finally admitted to in detail).


More connecting of the dots (or, the elegance of the avoidance dance)

When you’re “allergic” to dbt, you and your therapist have to get creative about integrating ideas from it into therapy.

Yesterday, I was having trouble identifying what was causing my rollercoaster emotions. Dr C and I came up with a chart to help figure it out… she used the dbt diary card and the behavior chain as a jumping off point. We had events, people around/involved, emotions, sensations, and thoughts as the first level. Then another two levels of emotions, sensations, and thoughts, and finally a level of just emotions and sensations. I could fill it out haphazardly and incompletely, then she helped fill in some of the blanks & connect some of the dots… at the root of everything behind the emotional ups and downs is terror (and the avoidance of it)… it’s weird, because the word doesn’t do justice to the overwhelming and crushing nature of the feeling, but it’s the closest word for it.

I’ve been trying to keep up with filling out the chart more often, but I’m finding that it becomes pretty triggering to look at the things I’m trying to avoid (duh!). At least in therapy, it was safe to open up that can of worms. Dr C kept talking with me about it, and that prevented me from getting too lost in the bottom layers. I’m kinda worried/scared that looking at it at home wouldn’t give me the same ability to pull out of what is stirred up. Yeah, it’s probably a cop-out to avoid addressing it, but I need to keep functioning this weekend. There’s work and social stuff happening. I can’t be a wreck… so I keep avoiding.

There’s a fear behind the avoidance: what if it overwhelms me? What if I can’t regain control over the impulsive thoughts? What if I fall back into a cycle of hospitalizations?

Sure, I could reach out to Dr C for support, but how much can she really help if the panicked child and the angry teenage are both triggered and overwhelmed at the same time, and I lose my connection to my adult, competent understanding of things? I know I’ve come a long way since the last cycle of hospitalizations, but the potential of it coming back scares the crap out of me.


Fear of going back to sleep

I think part of me is afraid to try to go back to sleep. I’m afraid to not have the phone in my hands and keep feeding myself the distraction… it’s too late at this point to try to take something to relax enough to sleep. I’m sure Dr C would be ok with me making it to a later appointment if I told her I needed to sleep, but maybe I can just sleep some during the day. That feels safer… (I know it’s safe to sleep now, but talking with her about the stuff has triggered the feeling that it’s again not safe to sleep at night).

My chest still hurts from the weight of what we talked about. It still feels like it might cave inwards…

Might need to change up the music flowing into my head from Burning House by Cam, back to the old standby of Safe & Sound by Taylor Swift.


Half-asleep irrational panic

I woke up a few minutes after 1am to the older cat howling. In my half- sleep state, I asked him what was wrong and simultaneously told him everything was ok & go back to sleep. L was sleeping sprawled across the bed, which left me squished into a tiny sliver of space. I wriggled one leg under her’s to feel more anchored to the bed. In my haze, her leg felt extremely heavy and unmoving even after I wormed one of my own under it. She didn’t seem to notice.

In that half-asleep haze, I panicked she had died some bizarre death. I listened for her breathing. For an agonizing several seconds, I  couldn’t hear anything but the cat. I swear my heart dropped through the floor and my brain did frenzied back flips… and I suddenly became wide awake. I heard her breathing and felt her moving slightly as she slept. My rational brain kicked in; she’s relatively healthy. The likelihood of her randomly dying over night in her sleep is slim…

I’m still a bit panicked. It’s taking my heart- rate a while to return to normal. My brain is still buzzing with left-over activity brought on by the half-sleep nightmare. I can hear her breathing though. I know she is alive and well… now I just have to convince myself it’s ok to fall back asleep. It’s only 1:40 am. I still have 4 hours of sleep time. I’d really like to make use of it.


Journal page update

Worked on this page again today. Still trying to figure out what to do in the top left corner…

An artist friend suggested a nose, though at first I was thinking the lack of one is symbolic of how depression makes you feel like you can’t breathe. I dunno. It still needs something. The right side definitely needs work too, but that’s looking like a total overhaul. This side just needs *something*…

image

I have to admit though, I worked my butt off on those stupid strings sewing her mouth shut. I must have redone them at least 5 times. They look a bit better in the photograph than in real life, but I’m still pretty proud of them. I had originally planned to glue actual thread on there, but wanted a more 3-d look to her lips, so I painted them in… I’m sure they look amature to more experienced artists, but they’re the best I’ve done so far. I’m happy with how they turned out.


More art

Worked on this page today. I’ve had the under layer done since September, but hadn’t figured out what else to do with her. She’s still a work in progress (didn’t mean to make the gold above her eye look like bangs), but she’s getting there… gonna get rid of the bangs and sew her mouth shut… not sure what else will happen, but that’s part of the plan.

Gelatos over gesso’d magazine page. Feather is gesso’d steps of origami paper.

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Still processing

…I want to write something about Monday’s therapy, but I’m still processing it. It wasn’t overly heavy, but it’s still churning in my head.

We talked more about the impact of abuse on a healthy, adult sex life. It certainly has a ton of impact. I mentioned to Dr. C that I found it easier to fully immerse myself in the experience without flashbacks when we are not at home. At first I had thought it would be different after the move because these walls held no memories, but it turned out to be just as triggering here as it was in my childhood home. She mentioned that it seems to be a “thing” for people with a sexual abuse history (at least in her experience)… I’ll have to look more into that. Maybe it’s something about associating home with unsafe situations? I dunno…

She also pointed out something I’ve know for a while, but she tied it to the self-harm: the most effective schedule of reinforcement is random-intermittent reward. Translated to plain english; giving in to the urge to self-harm even just once-in-a-while reinforces the connections making it a stronger habit… We also talked about easier ways to step away from the concept of self-harm being soothing. She suggested I work to find other skills that I can randomly toss into the mix. She said it would be easier to build-up other habits than to work at breaking the reinfocers for the sh. We didn’t really come up with other options, but I’m again tasked with working other coping skills into my bag… On the plus side: I have not cut recently, so I have not reinforced that habit lately…

I had started wiring this yesterday after therapy, but got distracted. I don’t really know what else I was going to write. There was a thought about it a few hours ago, but I wasn’t able to take notes. I don’t remember what it was anymore. Guess that’s the story of my life: have a thought, don’t have a chance to write it down, forget the though…


Quote – H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

“Remember that everyone you meet is afraid of something, loves something and has lost something.” – H. Jackson Brown, Jr.


I should have gone to bed…

I should have gone to bed when L did. I wasn’t tired at the time though. I thought I could watch tv for a bit then head to bed when I was tired, only now the panic has set in.

Just gotta breathe and head to bed. It’s just L & the cats in there (and the reptiles…). I’m safe. It’s 2015. I’m an adult. The dogs are in the living room. We are the only ones who live in the apartment. It’s 2015. I’m 36. I am safe. It’s all good…


Therapy is kicking my ass…

Went in today to process what came up yesterday. In doing so, we hit upon some other hugely emotionally charged things…

For some reason, her apologizing for a mistake (something I don’t see as her mistake so much as mine) triggered a huge overwhelm of fear. All I could do was apologize and ask her not to be mad at me in a barely-audible whisper…

Now I’m exhausted. Not quite sure how I made it home. I should have taken her up on the offer to hang out in one of the rooms for a while. It just didn’t feel comfortable. And once I managed to will energy into my body to move from the chair, I figured I might as well go to the car where I could blast my music…

I might be asleep by the time L gets home. Not sure I can stay awake right now…

(On the way home from therapy, Good Enough by Sarah McLachlan, Telling Stories by Tracy Chapman, and Angels & Airwaves by Angel Haze came on the ipod, in that order… fit perfectly).


Still running…

Noticed today I’m again “running” from whatever it is in my head that’s threatening to consume me.

I still cannot pay attention to only one thing. I have to keep moving and keep bombarding myself with stimuli. It’s almost got an adhd quality to it, but it’s more pressured and deliberate (well, ok, as deliberate as your actions can be during a frenzied escape from whichever horror movie antagonist you choose to imagine)…

As Dr C said at the end of Thursday’s session; “there’s more work to be done”

I’m covering part of a shift for one of my coworkers tomorrow. I hope that proves to be an ok distraction.


Back to emdr

During Monday’s session, I talked about feeling like I was running from something; something terrifying. I had no real concept of what it was, just that I’ve been running from it for the past several weeks. She asked if I wanted to do emdr around it.

Sure. It’s helped before, why not?

Only this time, it was an amorphous, looming feeling I was working on, not any tangible or comprehensive memory.

It took me a while to get started on it. I wasn’t totally sure I wanted to “go there”. I didn’t really know where “there” was, only that it terrified me and made me want to run away crying.

She was good about it though. She gave me permission to back off and do a lighter session instead. I fought with myself for what felt like an eternity. We ended up going through with it.

It was different this time. Not having a cognitive memory to go with made it both more difficult and a bit easier at the same time. I found myself putting more effort into the few sentences I was able to mutter to her during the process. I was more open to admitting that I wanted to destroy my body because of what I was feeling. It alternated with intensified body memories… and all of that went back to feeling like I shouldn’t be lying…

This session didn’t make as huge of a difference immediately, especially compared to say, the spider phobia session, but the terrified feeling isn’t as strong. It’s certainly brought up more stuff to process (well, more emotions that I have not felt since the move), but it has also maybe had a dampening effect on the intensity of it all…

Group was right after the emdr session, and I’m glad there was more time to just sit in a safe place for a while longer…

I’m not sure how I feel tonight. Body memories are back and constant for the first time since the move, but they also don’t bother me as much. We specifically worked on my desire to destroy my body in an effort to stop feeling them, so the desire to cut and smash my body to pieces isn’t as compelling tonight despite the intensity of the body memories…

Long story short: emdr can totally be worth it (easily more helpful for all of this than dbt. While it’s triggering in its own right, I find I can handle the triggering after emdr way better than after dbt)…

Tonight I’m just left with a weight in my chest and a nagging desire (but inability) to cry. At least I don’t feel like i’m a constant fuck-up like dbt had me feeling.


I need a nap

Therapy today was emotionally intense. I dissociated almost immediately when talking about the past…

I’m finding I need to assert that it’s all fake before I can stomach talking about it.

Dr C mentioned the dissociation a few times, but it was safer that way. She suggested I hang out after session and work on grounding. I agreed to sit in the car and listen to music for a while. I know I wasn’t totally back at the point I left, but I was getting antsy sitting there.

Once I got home, I could barely keep my eyes open. I pictured curling up with L in bed and feeling safe. I turned on Netflix and promptly fell asleep.
When I awoke, everything inside was calm and relaxed. I was grounded and present. It’s incredible how exhausting therapy and dissociation can be…

I don’t recall all the specifics of what we talked about in session, but I know we touched on the domestic violence, my previous eating disorders, and a bit about the abuse…

I so want to be through all this. I’m tired of struggling with the memories and after-effects.


Trusting

Monday’s session brought up a lot. She played a song that she said made her think of me…

That was weird on a couple of levels. 1) why in the world should she waste her time thinking of me outside of session? I’m sure she had better things to do (today, she reflected back at me that she probably had “other” things to do, and deliberately omitted my use of the word “better”). 2) the gist of the lyrics communicated that I may have been hurt in the past, but I’m not going to be hurt again… ::shudders::

Don’t notice me. Don’t think of me outside of the paid hours… Don’t know I exist outside of the office.

Also, for the record, I was not hurt. I was not traumatized. Nothing happened. You are mistaken.

Then we talked about work, and if it’s a good environment… She’s not so convinced the pro’s outweigh the con’s. I’m undecided.

Anyway, I was going to work after session. I’m not sure when I dissociated in session, but I was a total flake for my whole shift.

Fast forward to today. Another session. I managed to bring up with Dr. C that both the concept of her thinking about me outside of session, and the reaction I seem to have when anyone not only acknowledges, but also reflects back to me that stuff happened (I’m having trouble even typing that right now) made me really uncomfortable… I’m not really sure what we talked about around that though. I think I checked out.

I also brought up the trouble I have with intimacy, but it was the last 5 minutes of session so we didn’t get anywhere with it… maybe next session…

It’s weird to suddenly not trust her even though I intellectually know I trust her. It’s the inner kid. She’s freaking out. I know Dr. C would uphold confidentiality. I know she would never tell anyone what I tell her unless I give her express permission. I know I have no reason to fear her, but my inner kid is shaking in her boots. :/


Nightmares

I don’t have truly scary nightmares all that often anymore. I’ll have flashbacks in my sleep that effect me, but not such eerily-calm, could-be-true-at-some-point-down-the-line, leave-me-terrified-to-try-to-fall-asleep-again-in-case-I-return-to-the-dream kinda nightmare. This one was worse after I woke up than in the actual nightmare. In it, it could have been real, and I was calm and confident (though stressed). The anxiety and fear hit only after I woke up and processed the dream a bit more. It could totally be a place I’d work…

Anyway, so yeah. Trying to calm myself enough to be able to sleep again. o_O

How’s your night going?


Feeling disposable

Feeling very disposable tonight. Not quite sure why. I have an idea, but… I don’t know.

Trying to hold the idea of being worthy of care, and that people actually do care about me in my head. It’s proving difficult. Part of that comes from shutting everyone out right now. It seems to be the only way I can function enough to keep moving forward. It’s the only thing that keeps me from dissolving into tears again.

I hate this time of year. I hate that I so easily fall back into despair. I hate that it is so much easier here, where all the reminders of the original events are in my face 24/7/365.

There’s so much swirling around in my head at the moment. I wish I knew how to sort it out. I might need to purposefully do some containment visualizations tonight. I’m grateful for TM’s suggestion of using the pensive. I don’t have to pay attention to where I put things, or try to stuff them in so they all fit. I can simply pull it all out and put it into the bowl. I know it will be held safely there. Everything can coalesce, but I will still be able to pick out what I need when I need it; easily and one at a time. I can put the whole mess in at once, and know I’ll still be able to find what I’m looking for when I’m looking for it. The house, family, the cats & dogs, friends, experiences (positive and negative alike)… it gets pulled into the pensive so that nothing falls over the rim. I will have the tools needed for pulling them out one by one when I want or need. It will happen safely and in a controlled manner…

Just have to make it through the next several weeks. Well, first I have to pull off the move, then I can worry about the rest of the month. At least I’ll be with L again. And the triggers won’t be in the walls and the trees… most days and nights, these walls scream with the past. The new walls may well scream for someone else, but I will not be able to hear them. Hoping for some internal peace after this relocation.


pushing through

trying not to let my emotions get the best of me today and cause a total melt-down (though I do agree a release of emotion would be beneficial). I let myself tear up a bit earlier (thanks SG for the pep-talk/butt kicking!), but I have not let other things allow me to fall apart.

there are quite a few barriers to this move still, and trying to get them resolved serves to remind me how much I’ve screwed up in life… but I’m working on it. I kept making calls (after a brief pause to collect myself), and I didn’t let that voice that told me over and over again how hopeless and worthless I am win out.

sure, I want to head out to the store, buy a 12-pack of beer, some limes and coconut water, and drown myself in margaritas and beer, but… well, I don’t have the funds. so going to “drown” myself in my art shortly. plugging in my headset, cranking my ipod, and going to breathe through the rest of the day.


Sudden freak-out moment

I was up early this morning. I normally am awake, but in bed for several hours before I actually get up. This morning I physically got out of bed before 6:30am. I sat on the patio with the dogs and drank my coffee… the problem with that though, is the panic over this move and the losses kicked in earlier in the day. I did my online stuff already and it’s not even 10 am. I’ve finished all the distractions that normally get me through to 1 pm… now there’s time to think. I really don’t want to think. I don’t want to remember that everything changes in 3 weeks. I don’t want to remember that next week is my last session with TM. I don’t want to tackle the giant task of sorting things, packing them, and moving them. I don’t want to think about the fact that I feel people see my animals as disposable. I don’t want to be aware of any of the losses or changes coming up… and I don’t want to cry.

I suddenly feel very needy today. I want to be a little kid and not worry about anything, only I’m worried about everything.

Maybe if I get the dogs up-&-at-’em, their craziness will provide a distraction for the time being. I could do mani-pedis and give the little guy the haircut he so desperately needs. Then maybe I can clean out the snake cages I’m hoping to sell before the move… and… I don’t know. Hoping that provides enough distraction and draining to allow this panic to abate.


Changes…

Change is hard. I’m finding myself more and more uneasy as the move gets closer. I’m avoiding anything to do with it at a more desperate pace. It’s weird. So much positive is coming out of this move, yet there’s this huge fear.

There are expectations when I go back. It feels like they are too much. Yes, I know I was functioning relatively well when I left. I was competent and (mostly) together. I could do (or fake) a whole bunch of stuff. Now though? Now I can barely get out of bed. The days are more rocky then stable. The fake feels too forced… all the losses I never came to terms with the first time I left here are going to have to be dealt with this time around. I’m scared of that.

While I had built distance and walls and a life up there, it all fell apart down here. I’m sure I can get back to a more balanced space, but right now I’m indulging my fear for a few moments. I’m letting the anxiety come in hopes that it will leave again. Emotions are supposed to be like waves after all. They are supposed to hit, peak, then dissipate. Only I find mine hit hard, take forever to peak at impossibly high levels, dissipate, but then are quickly followed by another wave. Kinda like trying to swim in the ocean during a hurricane that never leaves…

Anyway. Yeah. I can do this. o_O


IOP fail

Wow that was triggering. Not only did the staff not have it together (no one knew why I was there or where to send me), but it’s on the second floor of a locked psych hospital. I needed to be buzzed in the front door, leave my belongings, buzzed in through another set of doors, buzzed up the stairs… it was worse on the way out. There were 5 locked doors to get through that way.

Over the phone I was told it would be a 2-hour appointment: first filling out intake paperwork, then a meeting with the program director. When I got there, I learned they expected me to stay the whole first day. I mentioned that I needed to go after 2 hours because that was all I had alloted per the phone conversation last week. It was also all the time I paid for at the parking lot…

There was a ton of miscommunication and misunderstanding before I even set foot in the door. The groups were rowdy and loud (a huge trigger when I’m already anxious), and everyone spoke over everyone else. Oh, and the only bathroom was a single occupancy room with entries from both group rooms. I hate going to the bathroom anyplace but home. It makes me very anxious. Having people know and hear me pee? Even worse…

I was so glad to be able to get out.  There is no way in hell I’m returning there. I left 2 hours ago and still am trying to center & calm myself. I keep looking around the house to remind myself I’m home.

I left TM a quite panicked message upon leaving, begging her to tell me I never had to go back…

I think I need to call them. I will tell them I changed my mind, and ask them to shred my paperwork… the move should be enough of a distraction at this point (I hope). And I won’t bug TM after tomorrow either. She shouldn’t have to put up with me just because this IOP was more triggering than therapeutic…