Tag Archives: holidays

Beach Distractions

I followed through on my plan to head to the beach today. It was nice. I walked almost 3 miles up to the lighthouse which I had not done in years. It was a nice walk. There were tons of shredded moon jellies washed up, a handful of man-o-war, and a mystery blue thing. Looking back at the picture of the blue thing, I should have tried to pick it up and flip it over. I’m thinking it was one of those really pretty, and quite rare blue mollusks that look like glass critters… I should have tossed him back into the water in case he could make it. I didn’t see him on the way back, so I hope someone else did it.

Trying to work on making the day my own. Will have to find another distraction for tomorrow… Maybe I’ll head back to the beach, maybe I’ll pay the alligators a visit. I’m not really sure. There will be a group hike at Everglades National Park on Jan 3rd that I may attend, but I would need to find a carpool person to go with. I’m not in the mood for all that driving by myself (almost 2 hours away, though further for most of the herp society members because they live one county north of me). Anyway, We’ll see…

Mom and I did our christmas thing tonight. We exchanged gifts and enjoyed dinner and dessert. Now I’m hanging out on the phone with L and watching the dogs. It’s nice that I could get a break from the stress of the season… now, to find some chocolate…

I was asking L earlier today if it was weird that I really wanted to talk to TL about today and my ability to follow-through on the distractions she had suggested… I guess it makes sense though, since it was something we were working on in therapy. It also makes sense in terms of the transference, because it feels very much like a little kid wanting to tell her parents that she did well in school. even the way the conversation went in my head, it sounded very little kid-ish – excited and bouncy and proud… wish I could have worked on that a bit more with her. maybe it would have lessened all this.


hormones + depression + changes + holidays = holy f***ing rollercoaster!

My moods have been all over the place for the past several days. I go from being fine, to uncontrollably tearful, to angry, to really sad, back to fine all without warning. I know it’s a combination of a lot of stuff, but it’s kicking my butt. Add to that some random little disappointments, and then stress over one of the dogs’ health and I’m a hot mess.

I’ve been trying to remain social. This weekend I went with mom to a gallery opening. I went despite really losing motivation as the time wore on that day. I went because TL had urged me to force myself to follow through on plans even if I didn’t want to in an effort to stave off a crash (or at least lessen the blow of it). I went because mom was actually excited to go, and I went to support a friend who has work at the gallery… It was good. My friend ended up selling a piece (at the point that we left, I believe it was the only sale of night. There was still about hour to go, so I’m sure other sales were had). I met up with someone I knew from one of the journal classes and we exchanged info to be able to keep in touch. Then, on the way home, I was able to pick up some quality frames someone was throwing out after a move (yes, I went “dumpster diving” because when you are broke, you do stuff like that, especially when it’s nice stuff that will just end up in a landfill). There were 5 in all, one of which is a nice Rembrandt reproduction that my mom is in love with. So, happy friend, happy mom, and new acquaintance all added up to a positive night. I’m glad I made the choice to still go out that night.

I’ve also been trying to remain occupied. I’m working hard on TL’s piece as frustrating as it is. I’m trying to keep my hands busy with jewelry-making when not working on her piece (TL suggested constructing something instead of just painting or drawing as flowing motions are supposedly more prone to keep you in an emotion where as shorter, halting ones are supposed to help release emotion… I will have to look into this further, though it makes sense and I want to say I’ve heard it before TL mentioned it to me). I have my music on when I can. I’m trying to stay out of bed (yesterday doesn’t count. The vertigo hit hard and fast Saturday night and lasted almost all of yesterday so most of the day was spent in bed). I’m trying to do productive things around the house… I’ve been putting off the cat litter for WAY TOO LONG, but it takes so much energy. Hopefully when mom returns from shopping, she will have brought disposable gloves so I have one less excuse to not do it. My one task for the day is to clean the litter boxes… just one (ginormously, monumentally, hugely, immense) task. I can do this (I will repeat these 4 words until I finally finish the task).

TL had given the option of a session this week, and I was going to be good and try to not ask for it, but the roller coaster is wearing on me. I left a message with the agency asking if they could pass along my request for a session. Turns out that the office is closing early on Wed and will be closed through the weekend until Monday. Hoping TL has time, but I’m not holding my breath for it. She had mentioned Wed or Fri as session options, so I guess she didn’t realize the office would be closed for the holiday. It’s not an emergency, but it would be really helpful to at least find out from her if I need to look elsewhere for therapy, or if I will be switching to someone else in the office. I need to be able to plan around that some more. It’s causing way too much anxiety the way it is…

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I ended up doing the cat litter (go me!) And finishing TL’s piece. It’s not quite what I had hoped, but if I keep messing with it, I’m really going to hate it, so I’m calling it done. It’s ok if she ends up hating it because I really don’t like it myself. But I’m not going to make another one at this point. It’s too much work and frustration. And I’d need more of the supplies I used for it… I wish I had made the mountains smaller, and I dislike the climber, and I think I went overboard with the drips. I do like the embossed background, the image transfer of the woman, and the text effect (so basically I like the left side and hate the right side)… Oh well. At least it’s done. I wish it was better, but maybe next time. :(… (doing art for someone when I’m on an emotional rollercoaster is probably not the best idea in the world, especially when the perfectionism jumps up at me because I want it to be “just right” and it likely never will be. I hope it’s not to disappointing for her when she sees the finished product…
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updates

sorry I have not been around in a while.  things have been very overwhelming, and I have not had the energy to censor what I write enough to make it ok for the blog.

On Tuesday I said goodbye to De.  It was anti-climactic. I didn’t say all I had wanted to say to her in person, and when I left, it was the same as every other exit, only this time she didn’t say “see you in a few days” or “see you next week”.  She just said “goodbye”.  I really hate goodbyes.  I hate the finality of it, and how it feels like a part of me is ripping out when it’s someone I have grown to trust.  Of course, this goodbye has been infinitely more difficult than many other ones.  It’s been compounded by other losses, by impending changes, and looming anniversaries.  And it has become totally entangled in a 20-year-old loss that was apparently never sufficiently addressed.  It still has not been addressed, nor will it necessarily be looked at any time soon.  I had hoped not to have to find another therapist before the move, but I can’t be in this limbo state without support.  I had gotten an intake at the agency we saw J though.  That was 2 weeks ago.  I called the intake coordinator on Wed of last week for an update.  He had said that I was going to be assigned to someone that day, and they will call by the end of the following week.  I wish I could have asked if it could be sooner than that time, but I was having enough time forming an acknowledgement of what he said that I didn’t feel like pushing my luck with being able to talk without crying again.  I really need to connect with someone.  I need to have that place where it’s ok to not be together all the time… and I need to process this loss and some of the stuff that came up right before I ended with De.  I don’t necessarily want to process those memories with someone I will only be seeing for a few weeks, but they are nudging at me in my dreams.  When I do manage to sleep, I wake anxious and in a sweat.  I don’t remember my dreams, but I know they are frightening.  My heart is still racing and I gasp awake.  It’s really not a fun feeling.

In hopes of getting myself active this weekend, I had made some plans.  The only thing I followed through on was the art journaling workshop on Thursday evening.  It was really fun, and the place is amazing.  I wish we had found it before making the decision to leave the state.  Yesterday, I was supposed to hit up two separate BBQ’s for the 4th.  One was over at one of L’s former co-worker’s place, the other was supposed to be with a childhood friend.  I couldn’t stop crying yesterday though, so I opted out of both.  My friend called me on it, but gave me a pass for the day. I have a feeling L may have called her and asked her to bug me about going out, because she had no reason not to belive I wasn’t feeling well yesterday… L denies it, but I dunno… she has done it in the past. Anyway, I stayed home from both.  I tried to do something productive, but I couldn’t do anything.  I stayed in bed for the night. Luckily, we live in a neighborhood of firework-happy households, so I caught a good portion of one neighbor’s display from my bed.  I went outside to the back and just turned in circles watching all the other ones people were setting off. There was also the fireworks from 2 towns visible from the backyard, so I had a 360* fireworks spectacular.  I know a lot of people with PTSD find this to be a really difficult time because of the noise.  I guess I’m lucky that mine is not triggered by this.  Start yelling around me or suddenly walk into a room and I will jump out of my skin, but set off fireworks and I will watch in awe…

Today was much the same lazing around, spent bouncing around from one un-started project to another, and generally being lost.  I should have returned some of the stuff I purchased on Thursday and Friday, but I didn’t have the energy to go out.  I fixed a bracelet I had strung wrong the first 3 times, and that took a good 2 hours.  It pretty much wiped me out.  I feel like a slacker, but I just don’t have the mental energy to do much.  I’m hoping I will get myself out tomorrow to return that stuff, because I really should not have spent all our money.  I also kinda want to go to a beach, but it’s weird by myself.  I don’t like to just sit there, and it’s weird to just float out in the water by myself.  At the same time, there’s no one I want to go there with.  One of the MeetUp groups I am a part of will be heading out to a local clothing optional beach.  I think I would have tried that if I was not so triggered these last few weeks.  I would certainly wear clothes, but I don’t think I can handle seeing a bunch of man-parts everywhere around me (most of the people going are gay guys, as none of the lesbians in the group seem to be going).  I know most of them will be baring all… I really wish they would have picked a clothed beach for this party.

Anyway, so I’ve been overwhelmed and sad and a hot mess, and simply without energy to read or write.  I’m sorry.  I hope it lightens soon and I can pay more attention to everyone.  I really hope the new clinician calls in time to get me in next week for an appointment… I’m really feeling like I need to connect with someone on all this stuff. I don’t want to hit my breaking point again down here.

(and I really miss De disproportionately to the relationship we had.  I know it’s blown up, and I know why, but it’s not making the break easier.  L had said it was similar with J for her… I wish I had understood how it felt for her, because this really sucks, and I wasn’t a good wife around it all… :(…)


today is a new day

I ended up at the beach last night.  It was nice.  I will really miss the beach after the move (it’s a mere 20 minutes from here, but will be about an hour from where we will be living… and there will be no palm trees or wading in the winter months).  I really needed the time away.  I needed to think and drown in my music.

I can’t remember which blog turned me on to Angel Haze, but I am in love.  She’s inspirational, positive, and kicks ass.  I can’t pick a favorite song because I like almost all of them.  Dirty Gold is my current obsession, but there’s also Battle Cry (ft. Sia), Angels and Airwaves, A Tribe Called Red, Same Love (remake)… and ok, just about all of them…

I have been fighting strong self-harm urges since the TSA line back up north.  I guess it’s a good thing they no longer allow sharps in the airport because I would have shredded my arm and leg in the airport bathroom before boarding, they were that intense (and I had that little resolve at the moment).  Music has been my centering tool.  I have not picked my art up again yet, but the iPod is glued to my side, with earbuds wedged into at least one ear.  If I don’t have my iPod on, I am playing music through the computer or my phone.  I am sure I will run through the gamut of coping skills in my repertoire before De returns from vacation.  This weekend is a long weekend and most people already have plans.  M and I will be spending more quality time together. It’s not a bad thing, but we have forgotten how to interact. We don’t have simple casual conversations, it’s only ever stuff that lights one of us on fire (if not both).  I wish I remembered how to talk to her.  I wish I knew how to rekindle that close relationship we had back in the day (or at least I think we had).  We are both lost in our own drama.  When we meet, we tend to collide because the spinning arms of the drama hit before we meet causing sparks to fly and fires to light.

I volunteered for a research project on reporting sexual violence.  I’m not 100% sure what they are looking into, but I believe De had said they are looking into how to improve the reporting experience, and what causes barriers to reporting.  I was supposed to meet the lady tomorrow at De’s office, but they will be closing early for the long weekend.  The lady will be coming here later on this afternoon.  I hope the dogs don’t maul her while trying to get her attention (they LOVE people SO MUCH they are not quite sure how to contain themselves. I also suck at keeping up with their training, and they don’t get out as much down here. They do better when they have seen other humans recently).  The questionnaire should take no longer than 15 minutes she says, so it shouldn’t be too painful.  I don’t think it will be too triggering either, so it should be well worth the money I get from it… I miss research opportunities.  While I was never a fan of writing the papers, I did enjoy coming up with the ideas for the papers.  I love expanding the knowledge base on things that we don’t quite know too much about.  I love education, and helping people understand things.  I wish someone would do more research on the after-effects of sexual violence.  There’s so much anecdotal stuff out there, but so little “official” understanding of a lot of it.  I recently found a blog entry on a topic I have never really seen discussed in print.  I know I have been told that it is not uncommon for assault/abuse survivors, but I had not seen anything even remotely close to educational about it anywhere before.  It is also one of the few places to write about it as a function of coping with the abuse vs a pathology simply deemed psychotic.  I wish medical professionals had access to that information.  I think I may have gotten some more effective treatment earlier on had the doctors seen it as something that makes sense in the context of my trauma.  I’m fighting with the thought of posting a link to it here because I don’t think it’s something I’m ready to admit to anyone outside of a few select people.  I know it would have helped me immensely seeing it before now. It helps ease some of the shame to know (other than just hear one or two professionals tell me it is not uncommon and it makes sense) that others struggle with it.  I was surprised to see the number of comments on that post (well over 200?!) from people all struggling with it in one form or another. I’m just not ready to go public with that aspect of my struggle. I guess I could post a link to the blog itself, and let you wade through the posts to find the one I’m talking about… I just… I can’t say it right now. Not yet.  It’s still something I’m working on with De (and eventually with whomever I see up north)… Anyway, the blog is called Blooming Lotus. She has not written recently, but there’s a ton of good stuff on there (at least stuff that can help you feel less alone).  I hope, if you struggle with anything she speaks about, you will find some peace in knowing that it really is something others struggle with… and that’s coming from people who know it first-hand, not just through trainings or clients…

On a totally random note (random because I’m not 100% sure what train of thought led to this) but how can you hold two completely opposite and contradictory ideas as true at one time?  I know DBT covers some of this, but I am allergic to DBT, so I don’t really remember the concept behind the “dialectics”.  I’m talking about such opposing ideas that they should not be able to be held as true at the same time because they virtually cancel each other out.  If I tweak one idea, it’s a little easier to understand how I can hold them both true and correct at the same time, but they are not tweaked, nor do I wish to tweak them.  One is the concept of  “never, ever give up.” The other is the right to “bow out” as each individual sees fit.  Suicide is seen as giving up, so how can I hold that sentiment with the belief that everyone has a right to give up if they choose to do so? How can I advocate for life at any cost in one breath, and the freedom of choice to end your own life in the next?  I am not currently suicidal, though the freedom to have that “escape route” is calming to me.  I hold at once the obligation to fight any and all demons, and the option to give in to the desire for peace and an ending.  How is that even possible?  Maybe it’s that I understand the pain on both sides.  I have felt the desperate need for relief, and I have felt the devastating black hole born of the death of someone I care for deeply.  I grew up with the women in my family (and possibly even the men, but I don’t remember that as explicitly) lamenting about death being around the corner.  My grandmother said that she would die soon (should die soon, needed to die soon) since before I was born.  My mom would always say she wanted the right to kill herself should she ever be incapacitated (she wanted to make sure we all understood and agreed with her right to choose to end her life if she could no longer live it the way she was used to living, be it physical or mental).  I think I recall my father saying similar things.  No one ever expected to “get old”, yet the only person who did not speak regularly of death died at a young age.  My grandmother was 94.  Both my parents are still alive (despite saying neither of them wished to reach the age they are currently).  Bitch is still alive in her late 70’s (all of us wish she wasn’t).  But K is gone, and has been for 20 years this year.  She was 52 when she died, but she was the only one who wanted to grow old… I was indoctrinated to believe that every human has the right to decide to end their own lives.  But I’ve also felt the loss, and had the training that ingrained in me the instinct to preserve the life of others (and maybe even my own)… so I hold those opposing truths at once. Sometimes it’s a mind-fuck.

pass almost 2 hours: The lady for the research study came and it took me an hour and a half to complete the survey.  Her computer was slow, but I also think I kinda spaced on some of it.  it was only supposed to take 15-30 minutes.  Clearly, I did not fit that time frame.  It was ok.  I thought it would ask more about any history, but most of the questions revolved around the last 12 months.  I remembered an incident I had not thought anything of because of where it happened and the circumstances surrounding it.  It was during a hospitalization last year. It happened on a locked unit, by another patient, and in front of staff.  It wasn’t anything major, he was having a psychotic episode (or so they said) and tried to grope me after another patient mentioned that I was a lesbian.  I pulled away. I was able to re-direct him in no uncertain terms, and staff told him to stay away from me (and really everyone).  Despite the fact that I was in there due to my PTSD reactions over past assaults, I was never spoken to about the incident, no one asked if I was ok.  I simply stayed out of the common areas for a while, and later had some really bad body memories that ended in an uncomfortable verbal incident with another staff member.  The thing is, you lose all rights when you are hospitalized for psych issues.  You lose your personhood. You become a thing without feelings, needs, or any control over anything.  They treat you like prisoners (though I tend to think prisoners may be better off in some respects).  If you don’t do what you are told, you are lectured and called “defiant”.  Things slide that would never slide outside those locked doors. People (other patients as well as staff) can treat you like crap, violate all sorts of boundaries, order you to do things, and you just have to accept it.  You have no rights, you have no decision-making capabilities, and anything you say is clearly an exaggeration due to your mental instability.  I was expected to have no real reaction to this man invading my space and trying to invade my body because he was a patient and so was I.  It’s counter-intuitive that a patient’s reactions and feelings are not taken into account on a psych unit, but it’s true way too often.  The minute you step foot onto that floor, you are no longer a functioning, reasonable human being who is simply having a difficult time, you are a crazy person that needs containment (even if you are there for depression or anxiety). With or without a psychotic diagnosis, you are treated as if you are actively psychotic.  At least, that is how the hospitals in this state are.  Up north, I felt a bit more human, a bit more sane.

Anyway, I digress… the survey took longer than I had expected, but I did get paid, so that’s good.