It feels weird; like part of me is still living back in the space that had me hospitalized so often. I get these little glimpses of remembering being in the hospital, and it feels so real in that flash of a moment. The other times, it feels like I’m living in both times at once, only I’m separated from the past by this frosted window. I know the gist of what’s happening, and I can kinda feel it, but it’s distant and away at the same time. It’s almost like knowing and faintly hearing someone watch a movie in the next room; I can hear it, I know the movie enough to mostly know what’s happening moment to moment, but it’s still something I’m not directly experiencing in the moment. The flashes of memory are like walking through the room for a moment and catching parts of it as I pass the tv. I’m not totally paying attention, but I notice it…
Yeah… kinda like that…
I’ve been remembering the various hospitalizations since Wednesday when Dr C brought up the drawing I left with her a few weeks ago… it’s not all restricted to the content of the drawing; its just all of the experiences mashed together. It’s not linear. It doesn’t really make linear sense, but it’s all memories of those times…
L had an unusually late chemo today, and there were a few times I really had to work to ground myself. I kept panicking that I was there because I was locked up, not because I was supporting L through chemo… being the only ones in the room, and it having gotten dark intensified the fears.
Psych hospitalizations are really dehumanizing. It didn’t matter that you likely already feel like crap; the process and experience make it all that much worse…
I dunno…
I hate when all of this comes up when I can’t actually process it for several days. I don’t know what to do with it. It pulls me in, even when I don’t want it to. I know I’ve been distant and spacey a lot today. I’ve been having a lot of trouble seperating from the memories. My brain is living in both times at once, and it’s distracting (even if I feel like I’m mostly in the present, it’s difficult to concentrate when the past is so “there” but indecipherable…).
Woke up today… triggered? It’s not exactly the right word for it, because triggered implies more intensity. I was “on”, activated. I started journaling about the story playing out in my head. When I went back to it later to proof read it, it felt hollow and substance-less. I thought I had put more detail, but I guess most of it only played out in my head only.
The story I woke into left me feeling triggered and on edge. I really wanted to cut. I was aware of the intensity of the desire for the release and balance that comes from it. I was also aware that I needed to try to avoid it… I decided to take a shower. My usual showers last about 30 minutes on a good day, without that loop that has me feeling unable to get clean… Anyway, today’s shower took almost an hour and a half. I can’t recall any reason it would have. For some reason, I lost an hour in there. And when I was done, I no longer needed to cut. I know I didn’t (I wasn’t bleeding at all), but the desire was abated and my body was a bit sore…
The loss in time caused me to run late for therapy…
I talked to Dr C about it a bit. She then mentioned something related to family that I had apparently told her previously. I don’t recall telling her anything like that, and I’m not sure I would have necessarily described things in that way, but I believe her when she says it’s something I’ve said to her… that got us onto the topic of dissociation and memory gaps. I expressed my frustration at being faced with more recent episodes of amnesia. I understand the function of it for traumatic events, but this random trigger that somehow connects to the trauma thus leading to dissociation frustrates me. I thought I had gotten to a point where I didn’t completely lose time anymore, but apparently I’m not. I still forget spans of time. Today it happened twice totaling over two hours. The second time happened while shopping after therapy. I thought I had been shopping for maybe an hour, but I had been there for 2.5 hours. Nothing notable happened, but it’s occurrence confuses me. Maybe it was left-over triggering from either the “memories” this morning, or my session with Dr C…
With this sudden increase in noticed loss of time, Dr C suggested I leave pen and paper around in hopes I may journal while checked out. She suggested journaling on my phone may be too complicated in a dissociated state. I dunno. It’s comfortable enough a medium for me… I’ve checked out while trying to journal in my art journal before and ended up just sitting frozen in that position while I was “out”. I’m not sure leaving a pen and paper around would do much. I think i’m more likely to journal on my phone. I know I’ve done that in the past while I was dissociated. Sadly, the app I had used at the time glitched and I lost most of that journaling. I do recall at one point before the app failed that I read several entries I had no memory of writing. Since I’ve started blogging, I’ve found a few entries I don’t recall at all, along with several I’m aware I wrote but cannot feel a connection to. I also know I’ve written quite a bit while dissociated in my private journal blog… none of it looks like anything vastly different than what I remember writing except for the entries that detail the flashbacks and memories; those I constantly have to reread in order to know what they contain. I have the general gist that they describe details, but I wouldn’t be able to recite most of it without reading it. It feels like someone else’s story…
Anyway, I think I lost my point for this post. I feel a bit better though. The anxiety isn’t as crushing after writing for a bit. I don’t necessarily feel grounded, but my chest isn’t tight and twitchy. I still want to cut, but I think I can get myself to bed without giving in. I just hope I can actually sleep tonight. I have work tomorrow. It’ll likely be a 10-hour day again. They are so exhausting, even though they “only” involve camp…
Oh, another stressor; my disability is being reviewed. I think I filled out the form correctly, but I was partially dissociated while doing it. I’m a bit worried I might lose my benefits. I felt weird getting it in the first place, though the providers I worked with seemed to think it was appropriate. I know I don’t have the energy to look for (and accomplish) full-time work. I currently don’t have the emotional head space to succeed at it even if I tried. I feel fake though. I should be able to suck it up and plow through all this. I should be able to be productive in society. I shouldn’t be so lazy and unmotivated… I feel like i’m wasting resources, but Dr C says it’s not a waste. She says having needs and taking time isn’t wasteful… I dunno. I think being so needy is wasteful and a pain in the ass, but she disagrees…
There’s that anxiety again. Guess I should sign off before I send myself into a tizzy over something which I have no control…
Sorry this post is so long-winded. I hope it makes sense and that autocorrect didn’t butcher it too badly because I have no energy to proof read just now…
I can’t seem to stop crying. This move is what my wife and I have been working towards for three years, but it still hurts. And it’s all right at the same time as a really crappy anniversary. It just sucks. I’m not sure where to turn for real-life support around any of it. I’m not even sure what I would want or need as support. No one seems to be able to understand that it sucks as much as it does (I’m not sure even I totally get why it hurts so much). Everyone thinks I should just be happy that I’m back with my wife (which I totally am!), but there’s also this anniversary of my aunt’s death (she was the safe place to go when my dad got out of control), and losing her house, and having to re-home one of my cats as well as say goodbye to my mom & her critters, and leaving my friends, and having to have said goodbye to TM… and I’m pms’ing, which ALWAYS makes everything a million times harder.
It’s weird, because my ptsd got so much worse when I moved here, but the thought of leaving the week after next is also really triggering. I feel like I’m leaving my mom to an abusive situation again (did that at 17 when I couldn’t stay at my home any longer b/c of my dad), though this time she lives alone – there isn’t any current abuse, but it still *feels* the same, and I don’t know how to shake that feeling. I was never good at protecting her or taking care of her as a kid, and I’m no better at it as an adult. I feel like a little kid again. Writing it out here though, I’m realizing it’s probably mostly the old stuff, and it’s kinda helping to recognize that.
Yesterday I gave in and went out with friends for our usual Wednesday night trivia at a local restaurant. I should not have gone out and spent money, but I want to get all the time in with them that I can. It took me 10 minutes to walk into the place though. I couldn’t stop crying in the car. On the way home, I tore out of the parking lot and cried again when I got back into my driveway. I know I won’t lose touch with my friend b/c we’ve been friends since middle school. We just keep finding each other and catching up, but it’s another loss at a time when so many are already very prominent.
I haven’t cried this much since ending with De this same time last year. I hate it. I don’t know how not to be overwhelmed by this. I have to keep it together though. I have to sort through all my crap and pack it up and wrap up loose ends. All I want to do is either hide in bed and cry, or go to the beach and ignore the move (still trying to figure out how to get more beach time in before I leave).
I’m really hating that I don’t have a therapist to talk to right now. I could call Dr. C, but I need to ask her if I can skip a payment on my old bill next month. I don’t want to have to simultaneously ask for extra help from her when I know I can’t pay for it in the moment… I’m kinda mad the stupid IOP was so triggering. It would have been nice to be able to process some of this stuff. It’s easier to be rambling and directionless in my whining in a setting like that where it’s somewhat expected. And it would be ok to whine and ask for support. I don’t know how to do that with people in my life. I’m supposed to know what I’m asking for, and how to ask for it, and how to do it on my own before even asking. That’s just what society expects. That way you are not really asking for anything, just acknowledging that you are stuck. People don’t have to be made uncomfortable by not knowing what to do (even if all you need is for them to listen and care so you can just get the jumbled mess out of your head)…
I’m really glad to be back with my wife soon, but I wish the change wasn’t happening on the stupid anniversary. A month earlier or later would have been a bit easier (later, I’m guessing, would have been easiest b/c things always get easier once the anniversary passes… and I might have had TM’s support through that day). July 7th has not been easy at all since being down here. At least up north, some years I wouldn’t even know it was coming up. Down here though, the distress over it hits hard more than a month before, and it just keeps getting worse as the day nears. For the past 2 years, it’s also been the time I have to say goodbye to my therapist, so there’s no reliable support around getting through it. 😦
I’m so tired of all this. It needs to get better again up north. I don’t have the energy to keep going through this all the time.
Sorry. I don’t know how not to be so needy right now.
I used to chalk my belief up to a weird perversion of object permanence. I guess this kind of is exactly that. I tend to believe if people don’t see me and interact with me regularly, they forget me. I get the impression it actually happens. I also fear that people find me really annoying and distasteful to be around. I have trouble reaching out to friends and family because I worry that 1) they hate me, and because of that, they 2) consciously try to forget me or remain away from me.
Lemme tell you, it frustrates my friends. I can’t tell you how often I get asked why I didn’t call or come by… How do you explain that you feel like people would rather gouge their eyes out than have to spend a moment with me?
There was another part that stuck out to me: the fear of forgetting. I often hoard memorabilia, and I journal incessantly in an effort not to forget more than I already have. People call it materialistic or anal, but I keep hoping an object connected to a memory will keep the memory alive. When so much of my past is a huge blank, I grasp at anything that may help me to not forget… Sadly, it doesn’t really work. I go back and read journals but cannot connect to them or remember accurately what I was talking about. I look at items from my past, and have no clue what they were from, or who gave them to me. I take pictures all the time hoping photographic evidence will trigger a memory, yet so much is still lost. It’s not as bad as it had been before college, but it’s still there. One of the worst memories to have lost is my first date with my wife. I know what she has recited to me over the years, but the rest is super foggy. I have snippets of moments from the night, but most of it is gone. It’s no reflection on her or the night (because I’m still with her, and we went on a second date relatively soon at my initiation). It’s just “the story of my life”…
But I digress. This is an interesting blog on a phobia I had not heard of before, but one that makes perfect sense to me.
Athazagoraphobia is the fear of being forgotten, ignored, or being replaced.
Athazagoraphobia.
Ooooh boy, what a powerful word that relates to intense feelings held by soooo many dissociative trauma survivors. And since abandonment and neglect is often a huge and prominent part of the trauma history, is there any wonder?
“Athazagoraphobia is a rarely discussed phobia. It means the fear of forgetting or the fear of being forgotten or ignored. Thus, Athazagoraphobia is of two types or has dual components: it might be seen in dementia patients in their early stages (or patients suffering from other medical conditions where memory loss occurs) where they fear forgetting their own identity and other things. Alternatively, it may be seen in spouses or caregivers of Alzheimer’s/dementia patients…
Flashbacks are returning hard. Got really triggered in therapy last time and I can’t seem to pull out of it. I want to bawl my eyes out, but there’s no place to do that; no safe person to do it with… the flashbacks bring more complete memories, and they are unrelenting. I’ve been rehearsing my mantra that is supposed to remind me I’m in the here and now, not the past. The words are starting to blend together and not make sense because I’ve said them so often recently.
Every little thing makes me jump again. I thought that it had finally calmed down a few weeks ago, but it’s back. None of my usual coping skills are helping. I hate this so much. I just want to be able to get through the days without feeling so terrified and alone…
I keep going back to wanting to run from therapy because it’s so triggering. Maybe if there were more resources during the down-time, or I had more in-person support around what we talk about, I wouldn’t feel so lost. But there’s nothing else. Nothing that TL can offer or suggest. Nothing I can afford in terms of additional supports. And I just want to isolate from everyone and everything 😦
Is it Saturday yet? Does it really matter anyway when the hour flies by so fast leaving me feeling raw and triggered? My neediness is through the roof today, but it’s very specific: I don’t want to have to talk. I just want to sit and feel supported. I want that closeness without the pressure of being “on”… I want to be understood and have all this figuratively held for me so I am not so alone in it. I don’t know how to do that with what I have in the moment. I can’t talk about what was triggered with anyone close to me because I need to still process it first with someone objective (translate that to: safe & non-judgemental & relatively unaffected).
The a/c was fixed yesterday, so I moved my art supplies back out of the bedroom, but I don’t want to sit out there to do anything. I like my little cave at the moment, even though mom is shopping and the house is empty. Feeling very vulnerable, so the tighter space is welcomed. The comfort of the bed and the dogs and the music through the speakers helps… Fuck, really miss De right now. SJ is very much here and very much out and very much missing her comforts and safety…
I had started this on the 25th, then re-did in color on Wednesday (30th)… Tonight was rough. I couldn’t sleep (stupid losses). I heard a song on my playlist that fit the piece, so added the lyrics to the background… the song is “Let you down” by Three Days Grace… (I’ll post a video and the lyrics from my computer later). Anyway, here’s the piece from its third working:
I managed about an hour and 40 minutes sleep tonight, so thought I’d try to add the lyrics and video link via my phone (need distractions at the moment)
“Let You Down” by Three Days Grace
Trust me/There’s no need to fear/Everyone’s here/Waiting for you to finally be one of us/Come down…/You may be full of fear/But you’ll be safe here/When you finally trust me/Finally believe in me/I will let you down/I’ll let you down, I’ll/When you finally trust me/Finally believe in me/Trust me/I’ll be there when you need me/You’ll be safe here/When you finally trust me/Finally believe in me/I will let you down/I’ll let you down, I’ll/When you finally trust me/Finally believe in me/I will let you down/I’ll let you down, I’ll/When you finally trust me/Finally believe in me/Never want to come down/Never want to come down/Never want to come down/(Down, let you down)/I will let you down/I’ll let you down, I’ll/When you finally trust me/Finally believe in me/I will let you down/I’ll let you down, I’ll/When you finally trust me/Finally believe in me
I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m so lost. I don’t know how to ask for what I need, or even what I need… I thought I asked for more help, but apparently that came out as “it’s ok to go more than a week between sessions…”
Of course, there are no real options for additional help here. I’m limited. I know what I don’t need, but I don’t necessarily know what I do need. There’s this vague idea in my head that more intensive therapy would help, but there’s no way to access it, or any place nearby that I could afford… It’s so frustrating.
I feel totally alone right now (I know I’m not, but I don’t know how to reach out, or what to ask for, or even why I should be asking anything at all). I don’t want to do any of this anymore. I’m so tired. Nothing ever gets better for long. The things that are the most popular suggestions don’t work for me, everything else is nearly impossible to access.
I’ve had flashbacks that don’t go away for the past week… I don’t know anymore how to make them go away. I do the grounding, I do the coping skills off that stupid list, I try to breathe, I try to remind myself it’s just a memory… but nothing works.
I reach out, but apparently I’m reaching out to all the wrong people. none of this is worth it anymore. I’m so tired of struggling and getting nowhere. I’m tired of crashing. I’m just so tired of all of this. But there’s nothing to do. Nothing makes any meaningful changes… I’m just… done. I want it all done.
It’s unrelenting and crushing. The only break I get is maybe an hour after I wake up, but that is only if I have peaceful sleep (rare these days). The more I’m awake, the worse it gets.
I need to get through these next 2.5 weeks so I can properly say goodbye to De. Then I need a new plan…
So I’ve had a few hours to sit with the concept of De leaving the agency. Â I had cried about it (yup, actual tears spilling down my face. Not just tearing up, but real crying complete with gross boogers). Â I was somewhat able to “talk” to L about it. Â I have thought about it, and processed it, and moved past the anger (it was fleeting). Â I’m in a weird flat place right now. If I think too hard or too long about it, I will cry again (have I mentioned I hate crying?). Â So I’m concentrating on little things. Â I’m concentrating on typing my words correctly (I’m sure there will be many mistakes, and I suck at proof-reading, always have). Â I’m concentrating on keeping the dogs from going nuts because they are tired and want to get to bed. Â I am taking breaks to take them outside one by one so I can finally put the boys to sleep. Â I was concentrating on listening to my mom as she talked about how we may go about fixing the fridge. Â I’m concentrating on the decision-making process of whether or not to start into Game of Thrones again tonight, or go with something easier, like Orange is the New Black, or Grey’s Anatomy or Dexter. Â I’m concentrating on wanting to find a way to express myself either through art or writing, but certainly no more crying.
I’ve been able to formulate and articulate to L that this overwhelming loss I feel at the termination with De is really the compilation of losses that I have yet to deal with. Â It goes back decades. Â It’s disproportionate to the relationship because it is so much more than just this one relationship. It’s the loss of friends and family and memories and innocence. Â It’s the loss of supports and home-bases. Â It’s the loss of a sense of security. Â And it’s the premature loss of someone I had expected to lose, but managed to trust anyway. Â I am not good with loss. Â I never have been. Â Sure I can smile through changes, but the tears always glisten in my eyes. Â This time they broke free. Â I don’t know if was because of how worn-down I feel lately, the creeping depression, or the fact that De was the first (only) person to hear some really heavy stuff. I was prepared to walk away from this relationship at the time of my move. Â I was expecting it to help keep me balanced as my stress rose. Â Just last week I had asked her for more support. Â This week it’s all going away much faster than I had thought. Â It’s pointless to try to find another therapist for those last 6 weeks, so I guess I will have to just figure it out on my own (though I am toying with the idea of trying to get a referral to someone for those 6 weeks)… I know it will be ok, because it always is in the end, but right now it feels really shitty.
When she first told me, I couldn’t exactly speak. I was too busy trying to hold back the tears and the sobbing because I knew it was disproportionate to the situation.  My tears didn’t listen to my insistence.  They spilled down my cheeks anyway.  When she asked me to articulate what was going through my head at the moment, all I could muster was a half-whispered “whatever” through clenched teeth.  I was afraid that if I opened my mouth more than that to speak, I would either sob uncontrollably and loudly, or I would speak out of my fear-driven (and old) anger.  She challenged my “whatever” by saying that she knew this was hard for me, and she knew it wasn’t “whatever”.  All I could do was shake my head as more tears streamed down my face.  I couldn’t look at her, so I looked everywhere else in the office and just repeated “whatever” one more time.  We sat in silence for a bit longer as I looked everywhere but where she was sitting.  More rogue tears.  She asked if I could tell her what I was thinking, if self-harm urges came up.  I realised then that my head was frantically backpedaling in an attempt to halt all thought (much like pedaling backward on a BMX bike to brake).  There was a forced-stillness in my head.  Conscious thoughts had stopped.  All efforts were being diverted to stave off any melt-down beyond what had happened.  It struck me as odd that there were no self-harm thoughts or suicidal thoughts.  There just were no thoughts.  She eased into a verbal safety contract, and was able to joke around it, which helped pull me back into the room and back to functioning. When I stumbled over concepts as I tried to agree to what she was asking, she helped out by saying “Whatever you need to agree to to get back here in one piece next week is what we are going to agree to”.  In the past, she had always wanted specifics, but I don’t think I could have given those to her in the moment.  I think I recognized a bit of freedom in that change (and I think I just now recognized how the weight was off her this session.  It was familiar in that I had felt it after I had given notice at the group home, but still had to deal with the kids for 2 more weeks. I no longer cared about the strict rules of etiquette because I was leaving soon. I was able to be more genuine, and the girls had picked up on it with me.  I think that’s what I felt from De today.  It was a freedom from the pressure to be “perfect” in the role… It’s funny how some guidelines are in place to help us do our jobs better, but in the end we are burdened with the pressure to stay within the boundaries – we lose our genuineness…) but I digress.  We chatted about other things for the remainder of the session. She had asked something about letting “us” know if I ever figured out a way to apply my knowledge-base in psych to myself.  I think she was going to go somewhere else with that, but she stopped herself.  I talked about my complete inability to have access to both my emotional and intellectual sides at the same moment.  We talked about this blog, and how it had been born of the idea of being able to look at all of it over time (the more professional side of me when I am in a more emotional space, and the more emotional side of me when I am locked in professional mode).  I told her about an early entry on the concept of  “attention-seeking” and how it is not always as sinister-ly manipulative as the field makes it out to be…  I kept a close eye on the clock because I had brought my Wreck This Journal with me to show her.  With about 5 minutes left, I changed the topic to that.  She always seems genuinely interested in what I bring in, but this time there was something else again.  I showed her the piece with the prompt to “make a paper chain“.  She seemed excited about it.  It was weird because the excitement was different… I’m not sure how to describe it.  She said something along the lines of wishing she could show it to other people because it conveyed so much more than just words could. The way she said it made me feel like she was trying to make a point to someone.  I had wanted to tell her she could (I may have imagined it, but it looked like she was ready to get up and walk out of her office with the book. She scootched forward in her chair as she had said that about showing it to others), but I was caught off guard.  The words “you could” spun around in circles in my brain, but never made it to my tongue… We moved on to scheduling after she looked a bit more at my book.  She pondered the best way to fit in the second appointment.  I put my vote in for Tuesday & Friday citing my “OCD-ish tendencies” for wanting to space out the days a bit more. She actually laughed and said she prefered that for the same reason (more genuine-ness).  So I will be seeing her twice a week for the next few weeks until she leaves.  We will be figuring out the content of our sessions as we go.  She checked-in about the possibility of doing more Duckboy work on Tuesday, and would I be ok if she sprung it on me that day.  I told her I was open to whatever, but that I needed her to lead if it was the Duckboy stuff because I feel totally lost on what to do with it.  I think she was still deciding on how to approach Tuesday.  There are a lot of days between now and Tuesday, so my opinion may change, but for now I’m ok with pushing the assault topics.  I guess it depends on how far I get with this internal processing of her leaving instead of me leaving.  I may decide by Tuesday tha I really need to talk to her about some of this stuff and whatever else it will bring up.
It’s amazing how much you can come to rely on someone for your daily activities. Â Since I have been home (all 36 hours), I have found I used L as my distraction and activity. Â Our interactions shaped the days. Â I would go out with her, or hang around the house, or watch movies. Â Almost all of it hinged on her. Â With her in another state, I find my motivation almost zero. Â I don’t want to go out anywhere (can’t think of any place to go), I have no motivation to walk the dogs, I don’t do anything other than sit around. Â It’s a stark contrast to the last 6 days when we were running around every minute of the day to cram in all the visits and activities we could in those 6 days. Â The most I’ve accomplished down here was a shower…
I used to be self-reliant. Â I used to cherish my time alone to re-charge. Â Now I find I have too much of it. How can your personality shift so drastically? Â How did I come to cling so desperately to another for my spark when I used to be totally ok on my own (happier even). Â Is this a healthy, loving relationship? or have I crossed the line into another pathology?
My stomach hurts (from an infection due to an antibiotic), my head hurts… and my heart hurts. Â And I can’t seem to alleviate any of it. Â The medicine doesn’t take away the stomach or head pain, and I don’t think there’s a medicine for the heartache (at least none that would be “healthy”). Â So I’m trying to drown it all out. Â I’m sitting here bingeing on Grey’s Anatomy hoping that their story will make me forget my own for a bit… It only works half-way.
Friday De asked me to help her help me figure stuff out. Â She said that she was willing to work on stuff, but I had to point her in the right direction. Â She wanted me to tell her what I need… Great, if only I knew. Â This all has eluded me for 2 decades, how the hell am I supposed to come up with insight now? I tried to express what I mean when I say I “get stupid” about things, but I don’t think I did a good job. Â What I mean when I say it is that I cannot apply any of my learning to myself, nor can I figure out a helpful strategy for any hypothetical client that may be going through any of what I am. I get lost and I don’t know how to help anyone else or myself. Â I’m at that stage now. Â I have no clue what else needs to happen to allow me to move on from things. Â The only thing I do know is that the flashbacks, unwanted memories, body memories, and nightmares don’t go away… I don’t know how to alleviate them or make them less of a problem. Â I just don’t know what to do next. Â She had said she could just ask me questions, but that it would not be helpful, more along the lines of torture. Â I can handle torture. Â I know what to do with that. Â I don’t know how to deal with all this though. Â I know how to run or numb or cut, but I don’t know how to simply move on. Â Apparently, neither does she. Â I tried to tell her that the time she sprung talking about Duckboy on me was good, but she doesn’t want to over-do that. Â I have no answers for her. Â I have no insight or ideas. Â I just don’t know what to do (if I did, I probably wouldn’t need as much of her help).
So what do you do? Â How do you move on? What makes things like this better?
…because dealing with the loss is more painful than I care to experience at the moment. L and I tag-teamed a bracelet for J. Hope she likes it. Took 4 revisions, but I think we are both happy enough with it to give to her next week (which, incidentally, will be our last session with her. Last week she had said 3 to 4 more weeks. This week it was cut down to one more week… still better than D telling me the day-of that it would be our last session. What is it with therapists and shitty terminations? I hope my ending with De is handled better)…
I also did 2 additional bracelets: one for myself and one for L. It was good practice. The one for J had the pretty blue geodes. L’s is the rainbow skull one, and mine is the girlier black skull one… I may still redo mine, but J and L’s are both set.
So, De was right. There’s a ton of grief over this whole thing. After the tag sale today (and my short nap following it) I woke up feeling lost. I had spent the last 3 days frantically occupying myself with the logistics of the garage sale. I woke from my nap without purpose or distraction. There was an overwhelming urge to cry uncontrollably, hysterically, and wholeheartedly. I didn’t let myself though. The last time I felt this urgent a need to cry, I was hysterical for over eight hours. I ended up calling a crisis line then being involuntarily committed to a psych unit. I’m in no mood to go through that again, especially in this state with such poor mental health care.
We tried to find someone to go out with as a distraction (L is the only person I consider safe enough to cry in front of, so I would end up crying wherever we went out). None of our friends were available today (or this weekend)… we ended up just going to buy food and drink. Eventually, the hunt for my preferred beverage managed to distract me from the pending tears. They didn’t come today, but I’m sure they will soon enough… I hate crying. I hate that tears this loaded don’t seem to end. It doesn’t help that I have my monthly mood swing.
I swear I have done nothing but ride them since Friday… there’s no hope, then there’s hope, then there’s no hope, then there’s hope… I hope the hope lasts. Â Not quite sure how to make it all work, but hoping. Â As long as I’m still hoping (even if just in waves), then it’s not so bad. Â The hopelessness comes, but so does the hope, so I’ll take the cycles. Â I don’t want to find out that there’s really no hope. Â I don’t want to fall head-long into depression over all this.
One thing that got me today was when I was speaking to someone at the affordable care act contact number… I was trying to figure out insurance for L and I, and whether or not I could still sign up/should sign up/need to sign up. Â The lady was telling me the guidelines for assistance with the premiums and such when she says that there’s a minimum income level needed to be able to receive the assistance. Â If we can’t meet that level, but still don’t qualify for Medicaid through the state, we have to pay FULL PRICE for an insurance plan (the cheapest I found was $220/person without the tax credit). Â So how is this supposed to help?? Â If you are too poor to meet the income requirements for the assistance, but make too much to get Medicaid according to the state (which is anything between $700-$990/month, aka, a whole boat-load of people struggling with jobs at minimum wage), you’re just screwed now because you either pay $200/month in insurance, or you pay the fines the government levy on you for not having coverage (about the equivalent of the cheapest monthly plan)… screwed… Thanks. Â Also, why is it that the plans all have 1) an annual deductible greater than my annual take-home pay, 2) insanely high co-pays, and 3) the “better” the plan, the more you pay for premiums, deductibles & copays?!… Once again I ask, how the he**Â is this helpful to anyone other than the insurance companies?? Â You could sign a waiver saying you can’t afford it all, but there are strict guidelines for eligibility to be able to sign said waiver. Â (que hopelessness)
On a positive note (I will include 3, because 3 is a good number), we maybe, maybe have a glimmer of hope for remaining in the house. Â It’s kinda a long shot, but it may happen. Â We also called about help with some repairs that need to happen. Â We are just waiting for a call-back from the agency (I hope they are not like most of the other agencies in this state that conveniently lose your message). Â I will give them through the week, then call again in the early part of next week (assuming I have the energy and motivation). Â Also, I was introduced to a new “top 10” musician tonight: Angel Haze. Â I don’t listen to too much hip-hop or rap, but I do enjoy it, and this woman has some really, really powerful songs. Â I really like all of the songs I’ve listened to tonight, especially her remake of Same Love, Angels & Airwaves, and her song Battle Cry (official video to this one can be really triggering for religious themes, self-injury, csa/child trafficking, etc so watch with caution if any of this is triggering to you). Â I have her on in the background as I’m typing this. Â Battle Cry is great, thought I could only watch the video once. Â Without the video, it’s actually really inspiring and motivational… well, even with the video, but if I watched it too often, I could see myself getting lost in the triggers… anyway, yeah, I really like her and I’m really happy her music was pointed out to me.
random: I’ve been wanting to ask De for my picture back. Â I think I want to fiddle with the background because it’s too busy with the effect I used… the characters get lost in the busy-ness. Â I wonder if she will still have it in her office so maybe I can mess with it. Â I used fixative, but I’m hoping I can somehow soften the bg… I may have to think about how that would work. Â Anyone know how to make a “permanent” fixative workable again?
had some trouble with some flashbacks earlier today. Â got through them ok, but they triggered a stirring in my head also. Â still don’t have a clear picture about what was disturbed, but some of the monsters have been roused from their slumber. Â they are starting to shift and awaken. not sure I want them awake. don’t know how to get them tucked in all nice again. Â trying to get through some of it with art. not really getting anywhere with that. Â don’t have coherent words or phrases to explain them. Â can’t put pictures to any of it. Â just sensations right now, moving, shifting, causing sparks. waking more monsters, but they’re slow to rise this time… really wish I had more talent to put them to pictures. Â wish there were words with which to speak of them. wish De was back so maybe some of it could be understood. Â teetering on the question of whether to reach out or just sit tight. Â thinking sitting tight will work still, it’s not bad enough (or even threatening to be that bad any time soon) to warrant disturbing others. Â just going to hold on.
wishing I was different. Â wishing there was better communication between what’s buried and what’s conscious. Â and things going scream in the night do not help at all. Â finally started sleeping last night. Â dreams made it feel like awake time. Â can’t seem to get enough sleep to make up for what was lost over the last few weeks. Â but at the same time, there’s fear of sleeping because the dreams are so compelling. Â just want to get rest. Â want to actually feel rested.
graphic pictures floating around when they do come. Â not sure anyone should know the details of them. Â would put them on paper, but they’re scary to others. Â wishing there was metaphor to be used. Â nothing’s come yet. Â just those really graphic images. don’t want to have to explain them. Â don’t want to have to show them. Â so they stay inside.
really craving hurt again. Â thoughts fluctuate between thoughts and cravings. Â desire to be hurt because it’s what’s right. Â know it’s mixed up signals. can hear De’s voice explaining it. Â doesn’t change the desire. Â wish there was relief without action first. Â dunno. Â holding out because it’s what’s supposed to be done. Â really just want to hide away in art. Â wish it would happen already. Â so many topics to express, so little by way of expression…
there’s the analytical side again. the professional, composed, and “knows her shit” side. the side that could sit with clients for hours on end prodding and supporting and fostering growth and promoting the will to live… she’s working from underneath. it’s a very weird feeling. normally, she would take over and I would feel like this side was in the background. now she feels like she’s lifting a drape of my currently-dominant self and sneaking a pen from underneath to let herself be heard. she’s being more subtle this time. i guess she has no need to overtly take charge at this moment, but she’s making her presence felt. good thing?
yesterday, when talking to De, I couldn’t bring forth my training for the life of me. my head was stalled in itself and I felt horribly stupid. I could not come up with one single need a child may ask for. I couldn’t put myself in the place of anyone else to even guess what a client may need when they reach out. I was stuck at whatever age it was that I first learned that any needs outside of life-or-death would not be met by anyone (a very overt and spoken rule growing up, though I have no idea when I first heard it). it was extremely frustrating. I can only imagine what it feels like at the start of Alzheimer’s, because that is the closest thing I can relate it to: I know I should know the answers, and had in the past, but I just could not raise them from the depths for the life of me. I had wondered to myself where the hell my analytical side was at the time, why wasn’t she able to jump in? and I remember being worried that her jumping in might mean that I lose connection to whatever emotional space I had contacted during session… maybe that’s why she’s less obvious. she’s respecting that I need that connection to the emotion, but she also wants me to know she hasn’t gone away too far.
again I’m catching myself referring to my “sides” as individuals. it’s just more comfortable that way. it’s easier to express how mutually exclusive they all feel. they are not alters in that they have their own way of dress or speech and you see a noticeable difference immediately when one or the other comes about, but they all have their individual roles. they only come about one at a time, and I have trouble seeing the info/perspective/emotions of any of the others at any given time. I may intellectually know something happened (have a memory of the concept of being a competent professional, or the memory of the concept of feeling depressed) but they never occur at the same time, and I can never connect to anything other than my current state. I have learned to successfully and completely compartmentalize myself. Â it worked really well in the past, but is causing a lot of hardship in the present.
I was reading through some forums last night, and responded to someone’s post. the response was given from the analytical side. it was weird reading it again and again knowing the emotional space I am currently in. Â the poster had mentioned feeling like a fraud because s/he was afraid of getting better. Â s/he was afraid of having responsibilities increased and expectations raised at the slightest sign of improvement. Â i can relate. Â I very much have those same fears (in fact, I’m dealing with the ramifications of my own raised expectations and responsibilities at the moment). Â the response I typed out validated the poster’s feelings but also said that the fear comes from the depression: while the depression is still present, it is very difficult to think of not feeling too drained by all the demands of daily life. Â once the depression lifts however, things become easier. the little things no longer make you feel like you are walking through waist-deep mud for miles on end… (I can’t take credit for that little gem if a theory, I had read it a few months earlier on that same forum but can totally relate). Â when I am not as depressed, I can handle the daily chores and the socializing and the (gasp) work demands. Â when I’m depressed however, all of that feels unthinkable. getting back to a point where I have to do all that feels unbearable. Â that is just the depression talking though. when the exhaustion lifts and the fog lifts, it’s possible to do all that and not be overwhelmed. Â
while I was able to say all this on the forums, I’m having trouble seeing the validity of it at the moment. Â everything feels overwhelming and difficult. Â the thought of having to feed the animals is daunting. Â the thought of being social is almost unbearable. Â i want to hide. Â i want to back out of everything that I am committed to participating in… Â yet I was able to pass on that insight last night. Â I have re-read that post at least 5 times this morning, and I still read my response as if I had not seen it (and it was written by someone else). Â I re-read it to remind myself that there is truth in it… Â but I still can’t connect to what I wrote. Â the analytical side came out from underneath the drape, wrote that post, and has slinked back off into the shadows to let me figure out how to deal with all of this myself. Â she’s made her presence known, but is not taking over (at least not as obviously, or to the exclusion of either the emotional, dark, or child sides of myself). Â if she is taking over, she’s doing it slowly and not totally kicking out everyone else. Â it’s very weird. I’m used to her taking over quickly and completely. Â the others will take over slowly (most of the time, sometimes it’s a split-second event without warning), but she has always been the one to snap into place in an instant…
anyway, I’m rambling… i still desire space and peace, but not in as much of a fog as I was yesterday.
I know I was dreaming right until I woke this morning, but I can’t remember what it was about. I know it was “weird” and I know this hollow-but-heavy feeling I have today is from the dream. I can’t shake the wet cement in my chest. It feels at once empty and heavy. I hate this feeling. I wish I knew how to describe it better (maybe figuring out exactly what it is would help leave it behind?). I wish I remembered the dream as more than just this feeling. It’s close to the feeling of waking up from anesthesia, but not quite it. It’s lonely and hollow and fragile/broken, but at the same time very far away and thick – so full of contradictions. it feels like floating in space but all contained in a body-shape made of thin melted sugar. It’s vast but contained. I feel like I’m at once the easy-break-sugar container and the tiny thing floating inside. Wtf?
I’m also starting to feel very much like a little kid who knows she has a ton of stuff to do, but just has no idea how to do it or how to ask for help in doing it… I’m feeling like I ducked something up really badly, but not sure what or how (or how to fix it). There’s an impending doom feeling that I can’t shake. There’s mistakes I can’t bring myself to admit to. I don’t know what they are, but there’s a feeling inside that I need to admit fault for whatever it is (if I don’t admit fault and apologize, something else bad will happen, only nothing bad has happened). Not sure where this is all coming from, but it’s overwhelming and very intrusive. Part of me wants to call De to talk, but I’m not sure what to say. There’s a fear in reaching out, especially since I don’t know what’s going on or what I need. Ugh… and I don’t think I could actually talk about it anyway. Duck!
sold a group of my reptiles off today. Â hope they do ok. Â at least the store has more national (and international) reach to sell them. Â hope it wasn’t a mistake. Â still have 10 snakes and almost 20 lizards… need to keep moving the lizards. Â they are more labor-intensive than the snakes. Â it’s just all too much…Â
saw De today.  not sure what I was looking for, but I guess it was helpful.  came up with ideas of what to do this weekend to keep safe and ahead of that black fog (or at least to the edge of it).  re-homing some of the herps was part of the plan.  i feel like I failed them though (especially the boa)… i hate myself for failing.  i hate myself for bringing the puppy home.  i hate myself for so many reasons.  i just want to stay in bed.  we are supposed to hang out with a friend tomorrow, and it’s really the last think I want to do.  bed would be nicer.  i just want to sleep right now.  i almost cried on the way out of the store.  😦 Â
so tired of all this. Â wanting to find a blade really badly right now. Â the self-injury would be comforting… f*** the fact that I will be getting a massage later this coming week or next… it doesn’t really matter, I can just bandage it and tell her not to do that leg… what difference does it make anyway. Â who the f*** cares what some stranger thinks. Â I doubt I’d ever see her again anyway, I can’t afford massages without buying them from living social, and that always means new customers only for stuff like that.
L is struggling also, and I wish I could be more supportive. Â but I’m just lost in myself. Â f*** the world. Â not in a good space today (this week)… none of it matters. Â nothing matters. Â it’s all just pointless anyway. Â
I know I should be talking about this with the appropriate people, but it is difficult, so I will write it here.
It’s not fair. Â It’s not fair that you invite him here and then get mad when I choose to leave for the duration of his visit (I shut him out of my life for a reason, and I really have no desire to let him back in). Â You can choose to have him come around, but don’t try to guilt me into sticking around for it. Â I don’t want to spend time with him. Â That kind of interaction is just not good for me. Â I know this last time wasn’t so bad, but I refuse to push my luck. Â I have enough trouble with all the crap in my head as it is, I don’t need help going over the edge.
I chose to stay away most of the time last visit because I wanted to limit the chances of me being really triggered. Â I want to be completely gone this next time, because I don’t want to deal with all that he brings up in me (and quite frankly, I don’t want to deal with your anger either. Â You refuse to tell me what’s bothering you. Â You may hint at it, but you leave me pretty much guessing. I don’t want to have to keep guessing). Â It’s better for all concerned if we just took off while he was slated to visit.
I get it, we are annoying and frustrating, and you want us gone asap. Â We are working on that. Â But in the mean time, I refuse to forego everything that helps keep me sane. Â I will choose to spend my money how I see fit. Â I am saving what I can, and we will be out of your hair asap because that seems like what you desperately want. Â Hell, if I could afford to move us out today, I would because you are clearly bothered by our presence. Â But that’s just not realistic unless we suddenly win the lottery.
We try to help out around the house, but nothing is ever good enough for you. Â It’s always too messy, or too noisy, or too chaotic, or too quiet. Â Sorry. Â I don’t know how to win with that. Â Like I said, we are working on getting out of here so that you can go back to your quiet and solitary existence. Â My bad for assuming I could move back to my own house and be welcome.
I know the dogs are bothersome. Â I try to work on it, but I can’t do that alone. Â I had asked for help with it, but it seems to be too much to ask. Â Coming here has thrown everyone off. Â It will take extra work to get them settled again (it’s also really hard to do anything with them outside of the house down here. Â The state and municipalities make it impossible to go anywhere with them).
I’m also sorry that trying to include you in what we do outside of the house makes you so uncomfortable. Â I’m sorry us leaving the house bothers you (but then again, staying home seems to do the same thing). Â I know I can’t handle being cooped up all the time, and I’m pretty sure it drives L nuts also. Â If we could take the dogs, we would, but again, too hot and too restrictive around here,
I feel like everything we do is wrong. Â I feel like everything we do is too little. Â If we don’t to the dishes, that’s a problem. Â If we do the dishes but don’t do them correctly, that’s a problem. Â If we clean up, we never do it to your standards. Â If we don’t, you just make passive-aggressive comments about the mess, but don’t attempt to help take care of it. Â I feel like we can’t win… and I feel like we can’t ever talk about it because, at this point, you are too angry and we are too defensive.
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I don’t want to do this anymore. Â I don’t want to keep running from things and trying to dodge bullets flying at me from the dark… Â I want to fix my shit and move on with my life. Â I miss my “friends” and my safe spaces. Â I miss being away from all this chaos and triggers. Â I miss having some idea of where to turn for support… Â I hate feeling so lost and hopeless and broken. Â I want to figure shit out, get off disability, and get back to working again… I want my freedom back…
I don’t really have a better description of it… it’s a combination of depressed, sad, lost, overwhelmed, tired, and… weird. Â I dunno. Â D and I tried to describe it more accurately, but I couldn’t pinpoint what it is. Â Between the stuff brought up in the intake, and then D deciding it would be a good idea to try to give me a DBT worksheet, I’m just lost. Â I don’t know why people don’t believe me when I say DBT and anything to do with it is very triggering. Â We were able to tackle some of the questions on the worksheet when I asked him to re-phrase them and not have me see the paper… It’s such a trigger for me. Â He commented on how I started to shut down after he showed me the paper… why is me saying it not enough? Â IÂ am hyper-vigilant to the font, the lay-out, the language… It was such a bad experience for me when I did those stupid programs. Â I was able to do the group at D’s office because we didn’t rely heavily on the workbook used at IOL. Â The language was triggering at times, but not using it so much helped ground when those trigger alarms went off. Â It was difficult to do today because I was already a little raw from the intake… and the stupid worksheet… visuals are harder for me sometimes. Â I can often times talk myself out of the auditory triggers when the voices are different and the visuals don’t match. Â Talking myself out of the visual trigger was more difficult. Â I handed the paper right back to him and asked not to use the same language. Â The cognitive tasks of answering the questions that were worded differently also helped ground a bit, but it still sent my mind blank. Â I had difficulty thinking and answering. Â He had to repeat a lot of what he said a few times before I could get back to my train of thought. Â I think if I hadn’t just done the history with De, I would not have reacted so strongly to the worksheet… but seriously, what is it with people needing to test the things I say? Â I tell you I react badly to DBT, please respect that.
De expressed disappointment when I told her I was “allergic” to DBT. Â She says she uses a lot of the dichotomy of loving oneself but still striving for better. Â I had never really picked up on that from DBT, but maybe it’s because I don’t love myself (can’t even really say I like myself most of the time)… She was also surprised at how quickly I completed the Trauma Symptom Inventory (TSI) – I think it took me no more than 15 minutes. Â It may have been because I spent an entire year researching the instrument’s validity with eating disordered clients (it is highly correlated with SA, but had not yet been correlated with ED at the time. Â My research found it to also correlate highly with ED independent of any SA history)… Â but anyway, I digress. Â Â She was surprised at how fast I did it. Â We talked a bit about the “answers of concern” and I had wanted to qualify other ones, but I couldn’t remember anymore what they were. Â It’s amazing how quickly things can slip from my conscious awareness. Â There was one I remembered and wanted to go into more depth with, but I wasn’t sure if I really wanted to open that can of worms so soon.
She kinda went over a treatment plan, but it was mostly asking what I felt was important to cover. Â I think there was only one thing she mentioned that I felt was of no concern: I have no desire to mend relationships with any of my abusers. Â There’s some other stuff I admitted to needing to address, but again, the trust is not yet there, so I don’t know how much of it I wanted to talk about today. Â One day it may also end up on this blog but, at this time, it’s too personal and raw/immediate/close to touch on even privately (forget about publicly).
So now I’ve floated into this weird space that is neither positive nor negative, but somewhere in between. Â I had hoped to be able to sleep when I got home, but I think it may be impossible without some meds. Â I don’t want to take those until I am ready to sleep for the night. Â I hate taking them, but I’m glad I have them because I know insomnia messes with me a lot. Â At least this way I can (hopefully) knock myself into unconsciousness and REM sleep for tonight. Â My sleep started faltering a few days ago. Â I need to get back on schedule and keep working on that as a coping skill. Â De said we will be emphasizing positive coping to help minimize any decompensation that comes from addressing all of this (gesturing to my whole self).
I feel like I need to be writing more, but I am not sure what else to write. Â I just feel like I should be reaching out and communicating again. Â Once again however, I’m not 100% sure what needs to be communicated or how it should be done, or even with whom. Â So I’ll leave it open to discussion as needed/wanted/feels ok.
I’m also struggling with the concept of using substances/meds to help get through this weird numb-but-overwhelmingly-emotional-at-the-same-time state of being. Â Depending on what and how much I drink, it may get better or worse. Â And depending on which meds I take, I may be pretty out of it for the weekend. Â As alluring as those all are, I’m not sure any of them are necessarily smart choices. Â I could use the DBT concept of “riding the wave” of emotion, but it’s hard not to worry about even that getting me in trouble again (you’d think therapy programs that are in the same building would communicate about strategies they teach clients so one does not punish what the other would applaud, but I guess that’s asking a lot).
I met with the new sa therapist for the intake today… she had scheduled 2 hours, and we met for about an hour and 40 minutes. Â It was nice that she did not rush through things like the other lady had done. Â We covered a lot, but at the same time, not a lot. Â Does that even make sense? Â I think I like her better than the other woman I had seen there last month. Â De seems more approachable, and I didn’t feel as defensive with her. Â We didn’t go into too much detail, but I was able to tell her some helpful things and some things that have not been helpful. Â She was not all about lecturing me on involuntary commitment, and she was ok taking some things slow. Â I wasn’t really forthcoming with the specifics of the SI, but I think I may ask D to tell her about that when he speaks to her (she actually wanted to sign a release and talk to him, unlike the other lady I had seen). Â She’s ok taking things slow, and I think I was able to tell her some things to look out for with me, and how I tend to not say things correctly the first 50 millions times around.
I had forgotten the total content of the TSI Belief scale (I had done some research with it in college), and it brought some stuff up. Â There were a few things I was able to qualify with her when she asked. Â It also wore down my wall a bit. Â But, I’m able to sit with that right now and not fall head-long into depression, which is good.
I’m putzing around at Starbucks (they have free wi-fi) while I wait for my appointment with D. Â I’m glad I will get a chance to talk to him today, because there are some things I feel like I should probably talk about, though I am not 100% sure what they are. Â Stuff was brought up, but the specifics fizzled as fast as they came, and I’m just left with the emotional echo of it all…
How deep is too deep for a drop in support group? Why do I resist participating in even that these days?
L brought to my attention that I “never go there” in terms of participation…I admit, I have not been covering much lately, but it’s because I don’t even know how to address it without going in way too deep for my comfort level. Â I don’t feel it’s an appropriate forum in group to cover that stuff (and I don’t know the new group leader well enough to be able to even try skimming the surface). Â I cover a lot of that in individual. Â It’s safer that way.
Do you want me to admit that I never allowed myself to get angry at anyone else until about 2 years ago? Â Do you want me to admit that it scares me, because the anger is everything I feared – I am everyone I feared when I get angry. Â I don’t want to do it. Â I don’t want to learn to be ok with being angry, because that would mean being ok with being that monster inside (she shows herself sometimes, and I die a little more inside whenever she surfaces). Â She’s one scary sonofabitch. Â It’s beyond anger, it’s rage. Â She could break the house down, and beat the pulp out of anyone in her way… She is so farfrom who I see myself as. Â So, no, I don’t wan to go there. Â I don’t want to talk about it, or tell you that all the things I do to myself out of anger I feel as if I could do worse to someone else when I feel her there. Â It’s terrifying to hear some of the thoughts that go through my head when I am angry. Â It’s scary how little control I feel inside. Â I never ever want to hurt anyone or anything else, but I fear I may lose control to her and hurt those I care the most about. Â I’d rather hurt myself than anyone or anything else…
Do you want me to admit that I’m terrified of having to trust someone else again… and risking so much with that trust? Â I’m scared she will over-react to the complete mess that is me. Â I’m afraid she will under-react. Â I’m afraid I will not be able to tell her what I need to because I’m afraid she will commit me. Â I’m afraid that talking to her about duck-boy and that asshole will be too triggering and I won’t know how to handle it. Â I’m afraid I will have no glue left to hold me together. Â I’m afraid she won’t be helpful, but by then I will have lost D, so there will be no one again… I’m afraid of saying the wrong thing and then being labeled for it. Â I’m afraid I won’t know what to say. And I’m afraid I’ll not care anymore, and get back to that place where it’s a battle just to keep alive.
I was all “whatever” today because I needed that veil. Â I needed to avoid this fear and insecurity…
I awoke with a bit more clarity this morning (I’m back on the analytical side of the wall). I have a few options to get through this crap: 1) I could keep reaching out and trying to say what it is I need until I get it right and I actually get it; 2) I could give in and fall apart with a slight measure of control so I don’t do it totally out of control, or 3) I could suck it up and force the pieces back together in whatever way I can so I stay “together” as long as possible in hopes that Medicaid (Medicare?) comes through before I completely lose it… Â
Maybe this is all so I’m forced to build up a support network down here…? A way to get through things without relying on professionals as much as I do. The thing is, I’ve relied on myself so much growing up, it took years to learn to trust anyone else to help keep me safe… now to have to learn to do it all myself again seems like a step backwards.Â
I am learning to rely on my wife more though. I’m learning to let her in little by little, but I don’t want her to be the main support. She has a lot on her plate also, and she needs to be able to take care of that too. I help as best I can, but I feel so wrapped up in myself most of the time that I know I’m not a very good resource.Â
I was pleasantly surprised yesterday when D acknowledged that the self injury was my only coping method for so long, it is hard to learn to replace… it was nice to hear someone say that childhood/early learning is more difficult to change – its more deeply written in our psyches than later learning. I know Dr C seemed to understand it, but never really said it. I’m glad D did.Â
So back on the topic of my choices; I’m not sure what to follow through on.  Even if I do a “controlled burn” so to speak, I can’t until after Saturday (huge volunteer commitment I would feel utterly guilty for missing, even if it means my mental health may suffer. Tho it may just help me make it through this period). The waves of feeling terrible come and go, but mostly it feels like a stagnant pool of hopelessness. It really sucks… but maybe if I can make it through the weekend, I am then that much closer to next Wednesday, where I have hope of making that session better… of getting farther with it… is it worth it?
I got a re-offer on the job, but I really don’t know if I can put all my effort into it. I want to be able to be productive, but I fear that it will be triggering in some way and I will crumble completely again… but it’s a job. So I should take it… even if I come crashing down through all the scaffolding I’ve erected recently. I really need the money. We really need the income… but I really don’t want to fall apart over it.  It’s not worth my sanity… but then again, having no money is messing with me also. I can’t quite win. 😦
The more I’m awake and at home, the more my mood hits lows… the more lows I hit, the more my old, maladaptive coping skills feel like they are not all that bad after all (though I knew they really are).
On the plus side, the flashbacks have been neatly folded away again. They didn’t get all that bad before I was able to hide them away again. The dissociation is coming a bit more though… it comes hand-in-hand with the depression. I lose time trying to drown out the self-injury thoughts and the desire for ANYTHING to make this better… I still have a huge fear around calling a hotline. It’s a mixture of not feeling in crisis enough to warrant taking up their time, and fearing they may suggest (or facilitate) a trip to the ER if I say the wrong thing… I’d much rather try to talk to D and trust that he would assess the situation further before committing me… I don’t know what makes me think that, but maybe it’s that I really want him to be more trustworthy and thorough before telling me I need to go anywhere because of the thoughts that drift through my head. I don’t know… I know some of it scares me, but I also know I’m not going to act on it because I have SO MUCH to lose, it’s just not worth it… So I sit with the emotions and urges until they pass, like DBT taught me… I struggle and the thoughts are torturous, but it’s not like a stint in the hospital would help anything. There is no therapy there and they just push meds, which have historically just made me worse. If I were on meds right now, my threshold for this would have long been surpassed and I would have been committed by now. They take away what shreds of lucid thinking I have in times like these, and they make the thoughts of suicide and self-harm stronger. At least this way, my rational brain can kick in and take over and keep me safe and alive…
but I’m just rambling. I hope the weekend goes by quickly and quietly and I hear from D soon, with an appointment to see him next week so I can tell someone in person all the mud I’m stuck in…
my chest hurts from the anxiety and the pressure of my urges… Waiting to hear back from this clinician associated with wife’s work… EAP works for spouses too. I may just call them again and say she hasn’t gotten back to me. My head is foggy and the days and nights are difficult. I talked to my wife a bit last night, and it helped, but I still have way more to say that I don’t think I can say to her (or anyone, but we will work on that). Trying to stay motivated… applied for a few jobs, but I feel like a fraud doing it… how can I help others when I feel like this?! this all sucks…
on a positive note, this bout of stress brings with it a reduced appetite, instead of an increased one… and I know when not to drink… so that’s both good things… and I keep breathing… shaking, but breathing… heart’s too heavy… wish I could cry, but all that crap from childhood and my over-analytical mind keep me from it… sucks… i crave that other release… but holding steady-ish to the commitment of not picking up a habit of self-injury again…
ever have those times?… It just doesn’t feel like I can make forward strides at this moment… One thing goes really well, and 3 things fall apart… I just don’t know how to change it. I’m only going backwards. It sucks.
I got a call back from one of the clinicians to set me up in their system… turns out that the only clinician that is part of the non-profit piece is a guy… I have trouble enough talking to a female therapist, forget about trying to talk to a guy… The lady that called me back was really nice tho, and she gave me a ton of other options… I totally appreciate that she called back 3 times with different ideas… I just wish I had money so it wouldn’t matter… but I have no job, and even if anyone is calling me back at the moment, my phone is shut off because we didn’t have the cash for the bill… I’m using my mom’s phone to try to find someone to see… All the places I applied to work have my phone number, not hers… This sucks. I just want to ball up and cry and hide from the world. I’m trying so hard not to crack under all this pressure, but I don’t know how well I can keep that up… When I got off the phone with her the first time, my legs ached with the memory of a cut… those aches have just been getting stronger. The part of me that wants to give in is screaming so loud right now…
both sides of the wall 