…Even stupid, meaningless ones that shouldn’t suck as much as they do.
Like tv shows that let you escape yourself.
And fictional characters dying.
Because they tug at the old hurt of all the losses that came before, and were actually meaningful…
It compounds when more than one loss is piled on at the same time. Then suddenly everything else comes flooding back, and it sucks…
The stupid, meaningless losses take on all the hurt and emptiness the previous ones left you with…
At least Lucifer wrapped up the series well, almost as if they were planning on ending it this season. They could take it further, but this is a good stopping point. They gave is the closures we needed to be able to walk away from the show satisfied.
Scorpion, not so neatly wrapped…
Totally left without closure; Chris passing away Monday. She had gotten through so many health issues over the years, ones that were true miracles she recovered as well as she did… I guess her body finally gave out. I’m not even sure if it was the cardiac issues, the kidney issues, the cancer, or something else that finally took her. Before this week, she had beaten cancer, recovered from kidney failure, and was recovering from bypass surgery… she and L were friends for a quarter century (give or take a year or two). I had only met her after I stated dating L, but she was an amazing person. She is greatly missed.
… Then the older stuff picks up; L’s dad, Chow, ButtButt, K & T, Floppers, Twigs, Tigger, Dizzy, Sugar Cane, Almond Joy… De, Chrispy, LKB… All the endings that were sudden, painful, and unresolved.
It all gets rolled into a giant ball that feels choking and overwhelming.
This time of year seems to hold a disproportionate amount of those losses…
And then there’s July 7th (the anniversary of K’s death, and almost 14 years later, my first suicide attempt… there were only ever 2 thought-out attempts where it was a conscious choice. Anything else resembling one was an impulsive, desperate attempt to find some peace, but not necessarily an attempt at ending my life… I blame it on the meds. I’ve never done anything like that when I wasn’t spiraling out of control on psych meds. Even when I was ridiculously depressed, I never gave in to the impulse when not on psychotropics. They work wonders for some people, but I am not one of them)…
Back to the original point of this post: grief sucks. Losses suck. Especially when the biggest, earliest ones were never resolved…
There was a moment of soul-crushing pain. It felt like my chest may cave inward. I could barely breathe through it… no. Just no. I spent the last hour (?) telling her things… they are impossible fictions. I’m not sure why I need to lie about this stuff, but I just do.
They’re not consistent stories. They’re not complete. Some I’m aware of as scripts (I didn’t actually remember them at the time, I’ve just read what I’ve written in the past enough times to be able to recite them. There’s no emotion. I just know what I should be saying)…
I can’t sleep again tonight.
I think we got home around 10:30. We didn’t come to bed till about 11:30. It’s 2 and I’ve already been awake for 20 minutes. I wish I could sleep. But I’m confused about the session last night. And the body memories are loud right now… right now, I can feel the scripts I was reading earlier. There’s a physical aspect to them. The emotional is just tired and spent (and maybe a bit scared).
I just want to sleep.
Please just let me sleep…
There was another point in session where she suggested an activity that involved tracing my body outline onto a large piece of paper. I nearly sunk into the chair and ran out of the room at the same time. In that moment, the thought of laying down on my back to be traced was utterly terrifying. Body memories flared up throughout every part of me. I could feel being held down. I could feel being touched. I could feel the panic… I wanted to curl into the tightest little ball ever. I wanted to hide. I wanted her to just stop describing the activity because no matter what words were flowing from her lips, I was sure it meant even she would hurt me.
I want to rip the skin off my entire body. I want to stab my legs. I want to open my arms up and let all the blood flow out. Part of what I felt and remembered last night must have been one of the hospitalizations. I felt tubes hooked to my arms, and a fuzzy, sleepy feeling. I didn’t want to wake up again. I really, really, really just wanted to fall asleep and not ever wake up… must have been from that time I OD’d for the first time… it would make sense for the emotions that came up on the way home once I was finally grounding… the emotions and the situation fit nicely into the OD attempt from 2007 (last night, L was out, I was supposed to meet her there after therapy. Therapy had been really unsettling and triggering. I thought about not going to meet L. The urge to self destruct in more ways than one screamed in my head. I thought it would actually work before she would be able to get home… I really just wanted to fall asleep and not wake up again). So instead I called her once I was home (I thought about calling her on the way home, but I was using really loud music to help ground. I needed to keep it loud till I got home). I got directions and managed to ask her to give me clear instructions on what I needed to do and where I needed to go. I got lost trying to get to her anyway – a place not 7 minutes from our house, but I messed up twice and ended up towards the other end of the road (near the hospital). I was still checked out at the time I arrived. I was supposed to help out, but it was getting late, and I was in no space to do anything that might require competence. I sat outside on the porch instead. I stayed there until I could finally feel the chill. I would have stayed there until it was time to go if L hadn’t come to chat and tell me to come inside even if I wasn’t going to volunteer…
I’m so exhausted, but I just can’t sleep. I feel like I need to keep talking about the things we opened up in session. Except when I go to talk or write about it, I freeze. I’m scared. It’s hugely triggering. It’s also something I shouldn’t indulge if it’s a story I’ve made up… yet there’s this really strong internal push to keep talking. I dunno…
I’m scared. I’m scared of continuing to address this, but also scared not to address it. I’m scared either will land me inpatient again. Both feel potentially hugely triggering, but one will trigger self-destruct out of fear of what’s being communicated, and the other will trigger self-destruct out of anger at ignoring things again…
Suddenly, I’m remembering Catherine. She was a case manager(?) At one of the hospitals I was at back in 2009. I only remember working with her one time, but apparently I was assigned to her more than one stay. I want to say maybe she was told more than I remember. I know she felt safe that second time (even though I thought I was meeting her for the first time)… she argued with the psychiatrist about the ect he was trying to force me into that time, and fought to get me into a trauma program out of state.
I wish the body sensations would stop. They don’t let me sleep (well, them and the chaos in my head). They are closing in on intolerable level… it’s nearly 3 am now. I can’t believe I’ve been babbling on for so long… it’s helping though. It’s helping stop the circles of thought. At least getting them down gives me a safe place to store them so maybe I can sleep at some point… Maybe I need to try to see the aprn at Dr C’s office and get something for the sleep… it’s been too many nights of poor sleep, and too many days of not being able to eat much of anything. Maybe I should try herbal tonight? Might be an improvement over the lack of sleep… I dunno. I really just want to be able to sleep.
I find certain things incredibly difficult to bring up in therapy. I’m not sure if it’s the way Dr C and I go about things, or the topics themselves, or my fear of disappointing her, or what, but sometimes I struggle till the end of session (or even after season is up) with how to introduce talking about certain things.
Last Monday, we had mentioned some stuff at the end of session that I really had hoped to cover today… only today I couldn’t bring it up again in time. The only reason I brought it up at all was because she caught me looking at the clock trying to calculate if I had enough time to get into it. I didn’t. She gave me the option of coming in again this week if I wanted. I took the opportunity, and also asked if we could talk about the self harm stuff that session. She said we can always talk about it, anytime. I told her I wasn’t sure how to bring it up; it’s one of those things that feels irrelevant unless I’m mired in it… only it’s difficult to talk about the “grand scheme” of it when I’m wrapped up in doing it, so it would be good to talk about it now when I’m not fighting urges… we established that it isn’t a current occurrence, but that it’s always in the back of my head (much like the concept of dying is always there).
I hope she can help me break into the subject next session.
Does anyone else find it difficult to bring up certain things at times? It’s not so much that it’s triggering or difficult to talk about (though it certainly can be), it’s just that we get going on another topic, or we seem to stay lighter, and I don’t know a good way to break into the heavy stuff. I find when there’s something I really want to talk about, I stall and sputter and pick something totally unrelated/surface to talk about when there’s actually something much more specific and heavier to talk about. I fall into the default notion of “they don’t really want to hear that stuff because it’s too deep/personal/uncomfortable so I’m just going to avoid it. I know it’s counterproductive for therapy (I mean, heck, that’s what I see the woman every week for: to talk about the uncomfortable/icky/ personal stuff), but for some reason I can’t get out of my own way and simply open up about whatever it is I really want to talk about most sessions. I’m so nervous and anxious about presenting well and progressing, I can’t bring up anything that might hint at any regression…
I know she says I don’t have to worry about disappointing her, but I always do (worry)… I have this intense drive to please people and make them happy in order to make them like me. It rarely works. Half the people aren’t swayed by my frantic attempts, the other half take advantage. I know I should be more authentic with Dr C, but I don’t want her to give up on me or be mad that I’m just always drama…
I need people to like me. I need them to know I exist, and to want me around or I might blink out of existence… I know I won’t really cease to exist if they dislike me or no longer want me around, but the little kid in me doesn’t get that. She’s still desperately trying to please everyone around her in an effort to justify taking up space and resources… funny how much the kid in me is desperate to be real, while at the same time another part of me wishes and hopes for an end (the depressed part. The part that’s so tired of fighting and struggling and trying)… annother topic for therapy “some day.”
Oh, I’m supposed to make “balanced happy” art for Dr C. She was thinking I should do something that makes me happy/feel loved, surrounded by more things that make me happy and feel loved to keep out the darkness (or create a shield against it). She did some concept sketches in session today, and I think it might turn out really cool, I just have to figure out how to execute them in an interesting way… guess that’s a project for this week sometime. It won’t be done by Wednesday’s session, but maybe for next week?
I had another session today. I have been feeling so crappy lately, I asked for some extra time after group yesterday…
It was productive (and long). We talked about what’s causing so much anxiety, and what I get stuck on. At one point, I mentioned some of the financial obligations causing stress. She asked if I wanted to take care of the most stressful one there, and she offered to take over the phone if it became too much for me to keep talking. My responsible side kept bugging me to say yes, but my scared little kid side couldn’t move. We talked a bit about that, then she talked me through the phone thing (literally starting with telling me to take my phone out and find the number). Before actually placing the call, I mentioned the correlation with making an arrangement with this company in particular, and a subsequent hospitalization (so far, it’s happened after every time, and I wasn’t sure if I only had the courage to call them in an effort to lessen anything L might have to take care of in my absence, or if calling them triggered a hard and fast spiral)… she said we’d make a plan after the call to get me through the weekend.
The call was uneventful as usual. The lady I spoke with on the phone was professional. An arrangement was made, and I hung up. Almost instantly, the berating voices started screaming in my head “I’m worthless. I’m a piece of shit. I should have my shit together. I’m a failure. Why can’t I amount to anything? What a waste of space!…” and many more unkind things. Tears started spilling from my eyes, and I managed to choke out that this is what always happens after calling them. About 30 different self-destruct plans flashed through my head. In an instant, I assessed each for viability. More tears flowing unchecked from my eyes. I don’t really remember what else was said, but I was able to communicate the self-hatred and hopelessness.
I guess I started demolishing my soda can because she asked if the pieces I was playing with were sharp enough to hurt myself with. I was a bit taken aback. I’d never consciously self-harm in front of anyone, let alone in her office (it’s a safe space… though I must admit she’s pointed it out to me in the past when I didn’t realize I was clawing my arms during session). Anyway, we talked a bit more, and she started saying something about me not being bad, and being allowed to make mistakes and ask for leniency. I can’t remember exactly what the words were, but they triggered a flashback… I just cried on the couch and tried to become as small as possible. Part of me kept silently apologizing and begging her not to hate me or be mad at me. Another part of me tried to remind myself that she would not do what I was remembering at the moment, that she was not the person in my memory, and that she was safe. The two inner voices warred to drown each other out.
None of it was voiced till after she stopped taking and I had continued to silently cry for several seconds. I think I actually interrupted her to try to explain what had been going on in my head… I found safe-enough words with which to speak about it; saying how frustrating it was when seemingly innocuous/nice (and common) responses to emotional upheaval and intense self-hatred were such instant triggers… I’m not sure if she was angry or sad that things like that had become so twisted in my head (not angry or sad at me, but for having gone through situations that caused the perversion of those basic concepts), but at one point I think I saw her hands move to cover her face…
We wrapped up that conversation and moved on to a plan for the weekend. I rated my intent to “harm myself” upon leaving. I said a low number, and she was incredulous (that sounds more distrustful that she actually was… more like pleasantly shocked?). I clarified that I wasn’t going to off myself after leaving. She clarified by asking if I’d self-harm. That number was higher. We talked about that a bit, then she again said we’d make a plan for the weekend. I was expecting to have to come up with the standard “what are you doing when you go home today? How about tonight? Tomorrow? Sunday?”. Instead, she asked me to hold on while she checked on her weekend plans… :gulp!: I panicked for a half-second and asked if she truly was just calling her husband (she’s never hospitalized me without talking to me about it, but others have). She showed me her phone dialing out to her hubby. I tried telling her I’d be fine over the weekend; that I didn’t want to interrupt her time with him. She promised she wouldn’t schedule anything if it interrupted their time together. She also said that she had promised to be there for me if I was having a rough time, and this was her way of being there this weekend… a few phone calls later, and we are going to meet again tomorrow either at her office or at her home office (tbd)… I’m still trying to be ok with wasting so much of her time, but she insists it’s not wasting it…
The ride home was “interesting”… I had trouble paying attention to the drive. There were points of the drive where I struggled with myself to keep the car at a safe speed and away from stationary structures. The whole time I worried that if I did crash, even accidentally, she’d think I had lied to her when I rated my safety. I try to be as honest as possible with her about things like that; it’s what built and keeps the trust. I’m more likely to say nothing at all rather than lie about that… I’ve remained silent in response to the safety question before, and we arranged for me to go inpatient like that in the past. I need the trust to be there. I get so low sometimes, I need us both to know that I’ll be honest about my safety even at the lowest times so I’m not again in a revolving hospitalization cycle…
Sorry, that was probably tmi…
I think I need a nap now… catch you on the flip side.
I had my usual appointment with TM today. I struggled to explain to her what was different about this weekend. She asked what the motivators were for my change in attitude. I couldn’t put my finger on the tiny “half-spark” of internal motivation for the change, but I also could not adequately describe the difference in external motivators either. At one point, I tried to explain that I disliked being a cause for concern. I don’t think I explained the “why” behind that very well though… Just now, reading through an older post from another blog I follow, I found a wonderfully concise and accurate description:
“I have always reacted badly to emotionally affecting other people; it’s like I should exist as a neutral entity. Especially when it comes to people who matter to me.” (0sername blogged about it in this post from last year)…
I’ll have to try to remember this the next time I see TM.
Anyway, we talked about the weekend, and she challenged me to find what it was that allowed for that tiny bit of internal push to change how things turn out. I kinda thought about it already while running errands on the way home… I don’t think she will like the answer (though maybe she will be able to put a positive spin on it): Since I don’t have a fool-proof, guaranteed-to-work method to kill myself, I might as well work to make the interim as pleasant and productive as possible. If I’m in crisis and falling apart at the slightest sign of stress, I will certainly not be making the most of this time I’m “stuck” here. I will also never progress past the initial “dump” of info in therapy. I need to be able to get past this point.
To that end, TM pointed out what should have been obvious to me but wasn’t: I’m still pretty depressed. We talked about what my barriers are to accomplishing even the simplest things. I had reported to her Friday that I had tried several times between Tuesday and Friday  to go to the beach without any success. She wanted specifics around what had me turning around. I explained that it should have been easy enough for me to go, since I always have a “beach bag” in the car (shirt, shorts, blanket, towel, bathing suit). I could simply head out and either change when I got there, or go in jeans and change into dry shorts after. But I would get stuck on all the steps needed to make it to the beach. Sometimes I would start to go, get much of the way there, then turn around because the remaining effort was just too much. The slightest hinderance to making the full journey (which is really only about 6 miles or less, and maybe takes 20 minutes) had me losing my resolve to go. It became overwhelming to think of having to make all those turns, go through all those lights, find parking, gather my stuff, walk “all the way out” to the water, find a spot to consider “mine” or walk along the shore… And if I decided to go in the water, I would have to make sure my stuff didn’t blow away, and my valuables were safely hidden, and battle the waves to get to a point where I can just chill… It was so much easier to just turn around and go home. (I also described my thought process around going to the mall several weeks ago to exchange my bra. She was surprised at how far I broke it down, and admitted that having to think about doing all that would exhaust her also). She agreed that my miles-long list of “steps to get there” could seem to out-weigh the single acknowledged gain. This was where she pointed out “what [I] probably already know, but…” that’s all depression talking. I sometimes forget that depression can also manifest as a lack of energy or enjoyment from things. I’m so used to it being a horrid, hopeless, lifeless mood that as soon as the mood lifts a bit, I don’t see the depression anymore. I think the universe has been trying to bring this to my attention of late. Not only has TM now pointed it out, but I had followed a few forum posts where it was suggested that the poster still was experiencing depression despite the lack of depressed mood. It was more of a behavioral presentation. If I take an honest look at myself lately, I have to admit I’m still obviously depressed. Not only do I find it incredibly difficult to motivate around anything or take enjoyment out of what used to be enjoyable activities, but I also actively battle a higher intensity of “self-destruct” thoughts than would be considered my baseline… So much for moving past the depression. :sigh:
Anyway, she left me with cognitively challenging homework this week (a good balance to the emotionally challenging timeline from last week). I’m supposed to document (timeline or otherwise) some happy/good events in life. I laughed at her and said it would probably all fit on a post-it, compared to the large piece of brown paper I brought the other timeline in on. We laughed, then commiserated on the salience of negative or traumatic memories as opposed to positive/happy ones. I pointed out that we probably wouldn’t have gotten very far in the history of humanity if we forgot tigers might rip our arms off when we tried to cuddle them in the forest. She laughed at that. I like that we have a similar sense of humor, and our thought-process is somewhat similar. I again almost asked her if I could take her with me when I moved…
The other piece of homework was more of a reflective exercise: to figure out what happened to give me that internally motivated little half-spark of hope that helped me get through the weekend. That is so much more challenging. I can easily figure out the external motivators: L, the animals, not wanting to wind up in the hospital, not liking the feeling of causing others to worry or be concerned… easy-peasy. Internal factors though? maybe the discomfort with causing worry? (because it has changed somehow from not feeling worthy or deserving of worry, to disliking the feeling I get within myself when others say they are worried. I know I’m not describing that well, but…). So yeah, I dunno. This one may take me forever to accomplish.
On another note, though TM offered the possibility of a scheduled phone check-in, we ended with leaving it up in the air. I told her I really wanted to prove to myself that I can be self-sufficient (because I used to know how to do that at one time). She made it a point to say that neither calling nor not calling her would mean a failure of any kind. I’m glad she has been listening to all my fears, lol. While I still am seeing calling her as a failure, I will keep playing her statement over and over again in my head. Regardless what happens this week around seeking support, I will not have failed… (some day, I might believe that).
I was so close to giving in today. I was so close to throwing up my hands and resigning myself to the fact that I am hopeless and will never change. But something propelled me to keep trying…
If I don’t do the dog nails first, no one will do them any time soon. I might as well at least do that…
It was quite a physical feet. While my dogs were relatively easy to do, mom’s dog was a handful. Not only did he not want his nails sanded, but he was going to try to get away the whole time. Lemme tell you a secret buddy, it goes a lot faster and easier if you just let me do it… But no. He didn’t want to stay put, he didn’t want to lay down and be pinned (he thinks he’s the boss after all), he wanted nothing to do with the pedicure. I was more stubborn them him though. He was placed back down every time he tried to get up and run. He got pinned and dealt with it. I stayed calm despite his frantic efforts to get away. Eventually, he submitted. The cardio I got from it though made up for anything I may have lacked last week. Picture a 65lb lanky, muscular dog who is also really good at squirming away…
Anyway, I won. I finished the mani/pedi’s for all 4 dogs. And it gave me the release of pent-up anxiety I so desperately needed.
My thoughts still float towards self-destruction, but they are not as desperate and intense as they had been earlier this afternoon. I almost left TM a defeated message saying I had failed a mere 20 hours before I would be seeing her again. I’m glad I didn’t. As I told L a bit ago, if you never change how you react to stress, nothing will ever change. Don’t get me wrong, I so wanted to give in and shred my body. I wanted to OD on everything I could get my hands on. I wanted to relieve the stress and anxiety in any way possible. I even contemplated giving the crisis line a “courtesy call” saying that I was pretty much going to cut, but that I had promised TM I would reach out first. I was going to tell them I had no idea how they could help me, or even that they could help me, but that I was simply going through the motions (keeping my word to TM is very important to me). I actually probably would have if doing the dogs’ nails hadn’t taken so much out of me. I’m kinda glad the puppy was such a jerk about it. If he had been easier, I would be admitting to TM that I failed…
Anyway… yeah. So, I battled all those crazy-intense self-destruct thoughts. I even gave myself permission to give in to them after first doing the mani/pedi’s for the dogs. But in the end, I won against the thoughts also.
Here’s to changing even if the change is excruciating.
The one thing keeping me from completely falling apart is the mantra that “I can never get past this point if I keep reacting the same way as I always have…”
Yes, the fear of dealing with all this is huge. Yes, I want to self-destruct more than almost anything… but that “almost” is the hope that maybe this time I can change things. This time, if I don’t fall head-long into crisis (self-harming severely, making risky decisions about safety, winding up in the hospital…), I can finally get through to some progress. I can maybe finally settle my past into the past. Maybe this time I can find a way through the darkness…
So I talk back to the voice in my head that tells me to shred my body, or that tells me to quietly end my life.
I really don’t like that I caused TM to be worried about me. I don’t like that my wife worries, or my mom. I don’t like that my dog gives me that look when she sees me in bed too long, or wrestling the desire to whip out a blade… She was there the first time I seriously attempted to take my life. She stayed far away from me for weeks after that. She came to me for the basics, but nothing else. I see that same worried look on her face again. The other dog will try to coax me out of bed. I hate that I worry them…
So I’m still here. I’m distracting and reaching out, and finding that “pattern interrupt” that TM wants me to find.
I spent time at the beach again today. I might do the same tomorrow… I need to keep doing things differently than I have in the past.
:sigh:
It would be so much easier to just give in and cut, or OD, or disappear… but I can’t do that. So I keep pushing myself to not fall into the old ruts. I’m sure I’ll slip up, but for now I’m trying.
someone pointed me to this site. it’s really good. check it out. Speaking of Suicide
it has resources for suicidal people, friends, family, treatment providers… all around good info. (I will also list it under my “resources” page so it’s always relatively easily available).
so, a friend passed this along… I chuckle at it not so much because it’s funny (though it is), but maybe because it’s kinda true… (I could picture this being me speaking to L or TM or mom or anyone else asking about it… actually have probably said similar things, but she put better)
I’m not sure where on the site she found it, but look on Hyperbole & a Half to find it and more like it.
I got a call back from De’s old supervisor today. We actually ended up talking for quite a while (We both apologized simultaneously for taking up so much of the other’s time). We ended on me trying with another clinician there one more time. At first I was a bit relieved to have a trauma therapist again, and to be able to work on the trauma stuff almost exclusively, but now I am hesitant.
I don’t want to take the slot from someone who may need it more, I don’t want to take advantage of the system, and I don’t want to be an exception to the rule. Also, I don’t want to know that I will have to switch therapists again in 4 months if I don’t move… Looking back on my history with therapy, most of my progress was made with therapists I was able to see for more than a few months at a time (and who had more trauma experience). It takes me SO LONG to trust someone, the constant change makes it difficult to progress.
The positives about seeing a clinician at the s.a.c. center would be knowing that I am talking to someone who has more training around trauma, specifically sexual abuse. It might be easier for me to jump into the trauma narrative knowing that my time is very limited. They also have all the notes from De. Oh, and I made it a point to mention to the supervisor that I am aware of my tendency to distract from the focus of therapy and would like help staying on track. She agreed that it can be a lot easier to talk about the day-to-day stuff or deal with a crisis than to deal with the realities of the trauma. If I do end up there (so still up in the air, as I know I can back out even after speaking with the new therapist), I think I will underscore to her that I know my crises and self-harm are distractions. I will ask that she keep pushing me through all the other stuff that I am supposed to be there for in the first place. I know it was a huge relief when De did that a few times. She would have a plan in place for the session, and kinda just spring it on me when I got there. It was helpful in keeping me from getting too anxious, and in getting me through the material…  I actually left those sessions feeling like I accomplished something (or at least felt that way as the week progressed). I wish she had done more of that, but we digressed easily.
Anyway, sorry. I got lost in writing up things to tell the new clinician (wherever I end up). Hoping that if I can write out those “quick & dirty FAQ’s”, then maybe the “getting to know you” phase will go a bit faster at least on her end. Â In talking to the supervisor today, I realized that I am kinda getting sick of therapy (at least the inconsistency) so if I can make this next round count enough to get me ok with a break, then all the better. I don’t know if I want to do therapy again when I get back up north if I won’t get to see Dr. C. At least if I can get a bunch of this trauma stuff out of the way down here (where it all happened, where all the huge triggers are), then maybe I won’t be so desperate for support. I’m just so tired of having to start all over again with the trust and the story… also, it’s difficult to find therapists who “think outside the box” in terms of treatment options. Most just regurgitate the same old things tried a million times that ended up not working for me.
The supervisor was explaining that they can adapt the TF CBT method for adults, and that it might be helpful. It’s still in the testing phases, but this center was chosen as a site to implement it and report on the results. If we end up using it with me, the data will be reported anonymously and with notation that it was adapted for an adult. Heck, at this point, I’m willing to try most anything (NO ECT or anything invasive though, never). Who knows… If it works, maybe I can move on with my life finally… That would be nice.
My other options are to 1) stay with TL’s agency and hope I get someone versed in trauma, 2) try D’s agency again, or 3) hope that one of the three EMDR therapists I emailed tonight takes my insurance…I guess I will see what it’s like talking to the therapist from De’s agency. If that doesn’t work, and the three EMDR clinicians don’t take my type of insurance, I will try out whomever at TL’s agency. If even that doesn’t work out, I will contact D’s agency and get more info… If all of that doesn’t work, then I will just take a break from therapy and try to do some self-directed work on it all (pretty difficult with trauma, especially since I feel the need to finally be able to share it, but if I have no choice, I have no choice). Here’s hoping whatever works out, does so for the best.
“On the day you woke up, needing somebody and you learned, that is OK to be afraid. But things will never be the same. You left my soul bleeding in the dark. And I’ve lost faith in everything.”
(Explosions, Ellie Goulding)
Still going to work on it a bit, but this is most of it…
It started as a raw journal entry that was covered by 2 failed image transfers… finally finished the page 5 months later.
After almost 2 weeks of nothing artistic happening, I worked on 2 pages. There’s been a lot going on that I am not comfortable expressing directly (though it needs addressing. Maybe with the next therapist?), but it’s finding its way into the art, even if no one knows it but me…
This page was started while I was visiting L last weekend. I was stalled on the dog image transfer. Finally figured it out tonight. “Safety Measures”… whatever it takes to keep breathing, because monsters are real.
And this one was started yesterday. “(don’t) Remember Me”… not sure how I feel about the visual balance of this one, but going to call it “mostly done” (for now) until I decide what else needs to happen to it.
From huffpost.com article. Couldn’t have said this part better myself…
Suicide is a lot of things, but selfish isn’t one of them.
Suicide is a decision made out of desperation, hopelessness, isolation and loneliness. The black hole that is clinical depression is all-consuming. Feeling like a burden to loved ones, feeling like there is no way out, feeling trapped and feeling isolated are all common among people who suffer from depression.
People who say that suicide is selfish always reference the survivors. It’s selfish to leave children, spouses and other family members behind, so they say. They’re not thinking about the survivors, or so they would have us believe. What they don’t know is that those very loved ones are the reason many people hang on for just one more day. They do think about the survivors, probably up until the very last moment in many cases. But the soul-crushing depression that envelops them leaves them feeling like there is no alternative. Like the only way to get out is to opt out. And that is a devastating thought to endure.
Until you’ve stared down that level of depression, until you’ve lost your soul to a sea of emptiness and darkness… you don’t get to make those judgments
I can’t tell you how this makes me feel, because I don’t totally know. Â On the one hand, I am saddened by the loss of such a talented soul. On the other hand, I am happy he is finally at peace…
He was my all-time favorite comedian… 😦
Having sat with the information for a bit, I have come to the conclusion that I am not sad. Â I feel relief for him. Â I will miss is talent, but I am not sad for him, I am sad for others who are saddened by the loss… I truly believe every human being has the right to decide when they exit this life, whether we agree with their reasoning or not. Â This belief comes about from my own experiences in life…
I was talking to L earlier about this. Â She brought up that it goes against the general christian belief system (in which both of us were raised, but neither of us really follow much) to take one’s own life; only “god” can decide when we go. Â My counter point to that was; “what if “god” has decided that this is the way we go?”…
None of us knows for certain what happens after the death of the physical body. Â We speculate and theorize and believe, but no one knows for sure… So what if this so-called god decided it was time for us to go, and the method of our departure was suicide… Would that change the way we look at it? We reason away everything else, why not this?
This particular news of a suicide affects me deeply, but not for the reasons one would think. I have been struggling again with my own suicidal thinking. I have seen official mention of my hopelessness for recovery… I have to admit I’m jealous of Robin Williams… He has accomplished what I wish for, he has moved on from the pain of this life, he’s broken out of the cycle… I wish I knew how.
As much as I was dreading today’s session, it actually went ok.  I was able to tell TL that I seemed to have developed a lot of anxiety around therapy. I was able to tell her that I was in no way shape or form interested in having to be the one to continue to seek out additional services for myself (she pictured it as being “empowering” while I simply see it as a chore.  People here don’t like to return calls, answer their phones, or generally be helpful in any way when it comes to a client securing services for herself. I was a bit snotty about it, for which I feel like an ass, but I was able to let TL know that I was really tired of phone calls and playing tag with people. I was tired of begging for help for myself, and I just had zero energy or motivation to do any of it.  She seems ok with being the one to make the calls after we each explained our positions on the subject… I just wish I hadn’t been such a jerk about it)… I had hoped for some more structured and therapeutic groups, but apparently she is ok with simply having social things going on.  I told her I was not likely to go to many of them, as I had done that search myself and come up with little that seemed interesting.  I was not able to tell her that I really need something with more accountability, someplace I would be missed if I didn’t show, and someplace I could be more genuine (less “smiley-happy-normal-chick” and more of the “I-really-hate-the-world-and-myself-right-now-chick”), and find more support… She even asked if this was the kind of “extra help” I had asked about, but I wasn’t able to be honest about it.  I think part of me is still really scared about what that may lead to.  I’m still really bent on not wanting any reason to be inpatient here, especially when all they do is trap you and drug you. There’s no therapy, no support, and they treat you like you know nothing about anything.  Currently, I need more therapy, not less…
We then switched gears and TL plowed through the rest of the intake packet that I am assuming she is under pressure to have finished asap. Most agencies give therapists a month in which to complete them, and this would be the end of said month.  I say this not only because she was pretty bent on finishing it, but also because she was willing to stay nearly an additional hour to make sure she got through it all.  I’m really hoping she did not have another client in that time slot (I doubt it, because she was aware of when and how far we were going over time).  She tried to get some goals out of me, but I think I spaced. Had I been thinking more clearly, I would have identified wanting to deal with the loss of De (and other losses) as one of my goals.  I would have also told her that I need help keeping afloat at this point. She suggested animal therapy, and we covered the expressive arts therapies possibilities too.  She is open to focusing on some art therapy activities next session. She also asked about music therapy (which I said I was open to, though not all that sure what it entails).  We talked about my personal goals in life, which brought up a way to try to convey how hopeless things feel at the moment.  She also asked about how things had gone in school, and when I felt that things changed.  I realized that (at least in the moment I was speaking about it), I did not feel any connection to any of my accomplishments.  I had originally said I did not remember them, but that wasn’t accurate. They simply did not feel like my accomplishments.  I told her about promotions at work, excelling in school even while I was falling apart. She countered that I clearly had remembered them, because I spoke about them to her.  I had to clear up that they did not feel like things I had done, though I know of them because of my resume, my transcripts, and people’s stories about my successes.  I wasn’t able to pinpoint the emotion behind it at the time, but now I recognize it as feeling like a fraud.  Looking back, I feel like I must have cheated, or had someone take pity on me to be able to move ahead.  I don’t see how any of that could have come on merit…
We talked about a bunch of other stuff too, but I don’t totally remember all of it… too mundane I guess. Â We ended with her reminding me she needs to ask about my safety (I had disclosed suicidal thinking and planning in our first meeting, and since then she does a safety check-in each time). Â I felt like I was watching myself talk to her from behind a curtain. Â Words spilled out of my mouth that I had no intention of uttering in her presence… It was very disconcerting (actually, it happens a lot with her. I tend to say more than I mean to say, and feel like I have little control over what comes out). I not only admitted to a plan, but told her what it was(?!). She checked in on the barriers to that plan, and I was honest about them. They are some very real barriers, and likely will not disappear any time soon. Â I admitted that since I came up with the more solid plan, the urgency to follow-through had dissipated. Â I think it’s just a “security blanket” of sorts at the moment. I know as long as the option is there, any overwhelming situation can be escaped. Â If that option is gone, everything feels a whole lot bleaker and more hopeless… We ended with an appointment made for next week, and a plan to try to get me to that Yoga class on Wednesday… I’m currently feeling very resistant to the idea, but things may change by Wednesday.
I really miss having the ability to write after session and have my therapist read it before the next time we meet.  I keep thinking I want to bring it up to her, but it’s another thing I am writing in a reaction to on her part, and it will be rejection (mostly because I know that there is little out-of-session contact allowed/encouraged at the agency, and I know all written communication must be filtered through the supervisor. I’m not sure I want 2 people having access to what I write, especially since I don’t know the supervisor). It made things easier with De though.  It gave me a way to be able to express things I wouldn’t have been able to speak, and to process things at my own pace rather than within the hurried hour.  I might bring it up to TL at some point, but I fully expect to first hear “I will have to talk to my supervisor” and then hear “it would not be appropriate, see if you can bring the important stuff in with you the next session”…  …back to really missing De again.  I had told TL that I did not think there had been one day in the past 2+ months where I had not cried. It came up in response to something that made her try to tell me crying was ok, and can be healing… She seemed a bit incredulous about the statement, as if it was impossible for me to be that depressed (because I didn’t present that way to her most of the time? because that level of depression for that long is pretty uncommon? I don’t know)… At the end of the session, she brought up the fact that I had mentioned Ativan was the only thing that seemed to really help (especially lately). She asked if I would be interested in meeting with the psychiatrist at any point in case I was interested in getting a “more thorough evaluation”. I had told her that I had met with the guy once, and I was under the impression that he either could not or would not prescribe the Ativan to me, and that he hadn’t really been helpful in coming up with anything else.  She pushed a bit, but seemed ok at leaving the idea to marinate for later.  I had told her early on that meds and I do not get along very well (much like DBT and I). I reminded her that even the Ativan only worked because I had not taken it with any real regularity over the past 3 years.  I would like to have more on hand because it helps immensely with the flashbacks and impulsiveness, but I highly doubt that the ARNP (he’s not actually a psychiatrist, but a psych nurse with prescribing privileges) would give it to me. Most doctors will not prescribe benzo’s unless they know you, and know you do not have a drug problem.  Even on the inpatient unit, the psychiatrist initially refused to prescribe me any while I was there.  I had to beg him and underscore that I was ok with him not prescribing anything for after discharge, but that I really needed it at the time to help make my stay more manageable… It’s not a drug often used to calm flashbacks or impulsiveness, but it is one of the only fast-acting meds that can dull all of that for me.  I wouldn’t mind talking to this guy if  I thought I could get a script from him for it, but I doubt it. And I really don’t want to have to go through the hassle of trying to remember all the meds I have tried over the years, and all their out-comes.  TL suggested that he may be able to suggest something I have not yet tried, and that it may work wonders.  I stifled a laugh… I had tried every drug and class of drug that they even remotely thought might work to stabilize me back when I was in the hospital more than I was out of it.  They had come to the conclusion that I was hopeless and the only course of action left to take was ECT… I refuse to go down that road again…
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
There are a lot of bumps on the road to recovery. There are lots of slips and slides. Most of the bumps and slips are my own doing. Even with the best of intentions, healing is not easy…
I find myself gaining insight, but unable (or unwilling?) to make changes based on that insight. I see the destructive path some behaviors are taking, but I continue because it’s easier than fighting to make new behaviors work. Fear immobilizes me. I’m afraid of the outcome of trying something new. What if it’s not as effective? What if I can’t figure out how to make it work and the agony is prolonged? What if I keep screwing up my words and I’m continually misunderstood until I can’t make any more efforts to try? What if I keep fucking up? …because I keep fucking up even at things I should be proficient in, forget trying to succeed at something new.
I’m floundering. I’m struggling to figure out how to get needs met that I can’t even reliably identify. All I know is I need support. I don’t know what it looks like. I don’t know how to get it. I tried asking TL for more support, but like I often do with words, I must have screwed it up. I got a week and a half between sessions instead of extra time in the week. I’m just now figuring out that I’m being extra hard on myself because of this. It wasn’t conscious, but I’m “punishing” myself for my lack of competence… My self-talk is harsher than I normally engage in. My temper is hair-trigger. I’m eating and drinking things I wouldn’t normally allow myself all in the same day. It’s making me physically sick. I’ve even considered eating meat again (first time in 2 decades) because I know it would make me sick. I’m all about punishing myself because “I should know better” and be able to pull myself out of this by myself. I shouldn’t need to rely on strangers to hold my hand through the pain. I shouldn’t need to be this dependant on others. I shouldn’t need…
Back to needs… I saw a post today on Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs.
According to him, there are basic needs all humans must have met in order to move through life. I have a few of those going: food, shelter… but I have to stop short of safety. Physically, I’m generally safe (except from myself). Emotionally however, I’m finding very little safety either within myself or from others. It’s something I struggle with daily. It’s something I started to have with De, but that got pulled. I would love to say I have it with my family, but triggers are rampant. I’ve traumatized too many people, and been too traumatized by people. I constantly see hurt and threat around every bend, even if it’s created by me…
7 years. 20 years. 5 days… time passing incredibly slow, and incredibly fast. Â 20 years with a loss of a safety net. Â 7 years to the loss of all hope. Â 5 days… Â none of this was supposed to happen. it’s all borrowed time.
20 years feels like 2 minutes. 5 days feels like 5 lifetimes. Â the 7 years just marks the passage of borrowed time. it all just marks the passage of time. Â none of it matters, yet it matters so much…
I ended up at the beach last night. Â It was nice. Â 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). Â I really needed the time away. Â 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. Â She’s inspirational, positive, and kicks ass. Â I can’t pick a favorite song because I like almost all of them. Â 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. Â 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). Â Music has been my centering tool. Â 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. Â If I don’t have my iPod on, I am playing music through the computer or my phone. Â I am sure I will run through the gamut of coping skills in my repertoire before De returns from vacation. Â This weekend is a long weekend and most people already have plans. Â 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). Â I wish I remembered how to talk to her. Â I wish I knew how to rekindle that close relationship we had back in the day (or at least I think we had). Â We are both lost in our own drama. Â 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. Â 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. Â I was supposed to meet the lady tomorrow at De’s office, but they will be closing early for the long weekend. Â The lady will be coming here later on this afternoon. Â 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). Â The questionnaire should take no longer than 15 minutes she says, so it shouldn’t be too painful. Â 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. Â While I was never a fan of writing the papers, I did enjoy coming up with the ideas for the papers. Â I love expanding the knowledge base on things that we don’t quite know too much about. Â I love education, and helping people understand things. Â I wish someone would do more research on the after-effects of sexual violence. Â There’s so much anecdotal stuff out there, but so little “official” understanding of a lot of it. Â I recently found a blog entry on a topic I have never really seen discussed in print. Â 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. Â 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. Â I wish medical professionals had access to that information. Â 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. Â 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. Â 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. Â 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. Â 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). Â 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. Â Her computer was slow, but I also think I kinda spaced on some of it. Â it was only supposed to take 15-30 minutes. Â Clearly, I did not fit that time frame. Â It was ok. Â I thought it would ask more about any history, but most of the questions revolved around the last 12 months. Â I remembered an incident I had not thought anything of because of where it happened and the circumstances surrounding it. Â It was during a hospitalization last year. It happened on a locked unit, by another patient, and in front of staff. Â 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. Â 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). Â 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. Â 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. Â The thing is, you lose all rights when you are hospitalized for psych issues. Â You lose your personhood. You become a thing without feelings, needs, or any control over anything. Â They treat you like prisoners (though I tend to think prisoners may be better off in some respects). Â If you don’t do what you are told, you are lectured and called “defiant”. Â 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. Â You have no rights, you have no decision-making capabilities, and anything you say is clearly an exaggeration due to your mental instability. Â 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. Â 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. Â 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. Â At least, that is how the hospitals in this state are. Â 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.
I can’t seem to put this down for long. Creativity took a while to kick in today, but I pulled a few pieces together that I really like…
the last one I worked on tonight (Ugly Things) is sticking with me. Â It took the most thinking to pull together, though the general idea came pretty quickly. Â I wanted to represent my struggles with… life, and show the reasons behind those struggles. Â I wanted to pull some more meaning into this book because I need to balance out my light and dark sides. Â I’m still working on the rest of it (want to figure out how to add in something about my struggles with eating/body image, as well as the sh). Â The girl in the corner was supposed to be contemplating suicide by multiple methods, but it just looks like she is using the pills and booze to numb the nightmares, and fending them off with the knife… While metaphorically accurate in that sh keeps the nightmares at bay, I want the sh to be a bit more explicit in the piece because it has been so explicit in my life for so long. Â I want the viewer to know that she is thinking of slicing herself up, not just the monsters in her head. I also want to do something with hands being held down. I can’t find a satisfactory reference pic though, so it has not materialized yet.
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?
The vertigo is back, and getting worse. I ended up going to the er on Friday to try to get more help with it, but all they really did was rule out other major things like brain lesions, tumors, low or high of anything in my blood, pregnancy (I could have come up with that on my own being a broke lesbian who hasn’t had any close (or far) contact with sperm in years). They gave me a script for an over-the-counter nausea med and sent me on my way. I was also told to visit an ENT if it didn’t go away in 4 days. The problem with that last directive comes when my er visit was on the last day of the month. An ENT visit 4 days from then will not be covered by my (lack of) insurance. So if I still have this come Tuesday, I have to find an ENT that will charge me a whole ton of money just for a visit or 2… (and I’m still not closer to getting rid of this). It’s frustrating on another level too: I’m only used to sleeping all day when I’m either really sick with a virus, or I’m really depressed. Right now I’m neither, but don’t have the energy to do more than about an hour of being upright before the dizziness and medication get to me. It doesn’t stop my head from racing, but it stops my body from working. I also have to rely on my wife to drive me if I want to go anywhere. She’s not a huge fan of driving. She is also wearing thin on her own stuff… add to that some major flakiness on my part, and we have a fun weekend planned. I feel bad for not being more supportive and for asking to go out when she clearly just wants to stay in bed. I’m having trouble writing this post, so please bear with me if it loses cohesion as I babble on. One side effect of both the vertigo and the meclazine is an inability to concentrate or finish sentences. It puts my brain in a fog (again something I’m used to with depression not physical illness), and I forget where I was going with my train of thought.
On a side note; De surprised me on Friday with actually delving into some more trauma stuff. She asked how I felt with her springing it on me. I told her I was relieved. I have been wanting to do this since we started meeting, so to finally put more effort into it is a huge relief. The only problem that arose was my inability to convey much. I warned her about it before hand, telling her I sometimes take a while to finish what I’m saying because I’m trying to put it into the correct words. I added that the vertigo didn’t help much in that department. But we managed to talk about stuff and I was able to give a better picture of things that went on with Duckboy. I checked out a short way into it, but we talked about that too. She was actually able to ground me better before I left, and it was a good session. I told her there was some stuff that came up to which I couldn’t give voice, but that I would either try to pack it away for next week or journal about it. As it were, I was able to journal about it some on the way to the er for the vertigo. I’m glad I was able to do it then because it has since been packed away…
Anyway, I’ve totally lost my original train of thought. Off to take another nap in hopes of sleeping off the dizziness. Have a good Sunday.
I have participated in 100-theme challenges twice now, and I really liked some of what I produced because of them. Â This year however, I wanted to put my own spin on things. Â I wanted to come up with one myself. Â A lot of my list can be interpreted in therapeutic ways (though admittedly, some were inspired by objects/events in the living room at the time of its creation), so I thought I would post it here in case anyone wants to participate. Â The rules are simple: interpret the prompt however you see fit. Â You can choose to post your work publicly somewhere, or keep it to yourself. Â It can be in any form you wish as long as it can be considered creative in some way (drawing, painting, sculpting, writing, music, sounds, pictures, words, collages, performance, anything). Â It’s really just supposed to give you topics you may not have thought of on your own to help spark creativity… I have liked the challenges in the past because I did things I never expected to do. Â It forced me to take time out for creativity and story-telling. Â Since I have been focusing more on my own art therapy of late, I figured this next one could be a way to help me express to De what I need to get out. Â I will try to post anything I do of relevance. Â I must warn you however, I go in spurts with these things. Â Sometimes a whole bunch of work will show up at once, other times, there will be months without anything. Â What I’m trying to say is: don’t hold your breathe for me to get the list finished in a timely manner. Â I have had 2013’s list for the past year and only this past month have I started it… Â I really liked that list though, so I will continue working on that one as well (rather than incorporate stuff from that list into this one).
Without further adieu, here’s my 2014 100-theme challenge:
1) candlelight
2) magnified
3) left standing
4) aftermath
5) breaking ground or ground breaking?
6) reaching out
7) trust
8) broken
9) in the daylight (everything is different)
10) rats in the walls
11) shattered
12) open to interpretation
13) flashbacks
14) heaviness
15) lighter than air
16) combustion
17) lights
18) hope/hopeless
19) under pressure
20) disclosure
21) history
22) presence
23) disappearing from…
24) gone away
25) at the dinner table
26) unbalanced
27) highlights
28) even snakes get the blues
29) enlightenment
30) despair
31) rave with me
32) the itch you can’t scratch
33) slippery slope
34) in my travels
35) it’s the end of the world
36) here there be dragons
37) firefight
38) spirals/spiraling
39) a blank canvas
40) just a thought
41) reflections
42) big trouble
43) happiness
44) wrath
45) associations
46) to the world
47) on the inside
48) truth in advertising
49) memory
50) deception
51) hollow
52) survival
53) turmoil
54) bad choices
55) comfort
56) falling (is like this)
57) open up
58) feety pajamas
59) what would you do?
60) superpowers
61) once upon a time
62) AWOL
63) hunger
64) the light’s gone out
65) running
66) awareness
67) transition
68) humility
69) conscience
70) memorable
71) convergence
72) destroy
73) buildings and bridges
74) the last time
75) vision
76) burning bridges
77) why
78) the first time
79) meditation
80) technology
81) walls
82) containment
83) distraction
84) anxiety
85) heart
86) it hurts like this
87) play it again
88) talk to me
89) open book
90) animals
91) brutality
92) nature
93) family
94) obsession
95) release
96) skeletons
97) peak performance
98) water
99) drowning
100) rescue
In case anyone is interested, the list I’m working on for 2013 is this (I think I have pieces to cover 7 of the topics… I’m seriously slacking!):
1. Break Away 2. Bites the Dust 3. Innocence 4. Drive 5. Sound of Settling 6. Mother Nature 7. No Time 8. Standing Still 9. Two Roads 10. Foreign 11. Breaking the Silence 12. Keeping a Secret 13. Blind Man’s Bluff 14. Waltzing 15. Traps 16. Mischief Managed 17. Lazy Days 18. Hot/Cold 19. Anyone Out There? 20. Seeing Red 21. Through the Fire 22. Between the Raindrops 23. Safety First 24. Puzzle 25. Gateway 26. Fantasia 27. Everyday Magic 28. Irregular Orbit 29. Change in the Weather 30. Nowhere and Nothing 31. Charge 32. Turn the Car Around 33. Colorless 34. Assassin 35. Daughters 36. Instant 37. Don’t Be a Hero 38. Born Without Time 39. Sound Effect 40. Little Bombs 41. Freak 42. American Boys 43. Clue 44. True Believers 45. Portable 46. Caption 47. So Close 48. Under the Red Hood 49. Dragon 50. Making History 51. Rivalry 52. Death 53. Excuses 54. Colors 55. Family 56. Music 57. Off Topic 58. Black and White 59. Memories 60. Song Title 61. Fighting Chance 62. Childhood 63. Shenanigans 64. Elements 65. First Time 66. Lost 67. Strangers 68. Insanity 69. Mirror 70. Silhouette 71. Zodiac 72. Dreams 73. Hope 74. Misunderstanding 75. Relationship 76. Stay Gold 77. Beauty 78. Alice in Wonderland 79. Runaway 80. Our Own World 81. Kiss 82. Little Things 83. Secret Admirer 84. Sweet Dreams 85. Past 86. Present 87. Future 88. Forgotten 89. Human 90. Silence 91. Breathe Again 92. Breaking the Rules 93. Fairy Tale 94. Death 95. Umbrella 96. Pattern 97. Season 98. Clothing 99. Animal 100. The Ones We Left Alive
lots of things I can relate to in this, and I really like the way some of it is said (I do not think English is a first language for the writer, but they get their point across well).
“for me it felt humiliating to be hospitalized. It was almost impossible to keep my dignity in those periods of time. Sometimes I did not even feel human anymore. We had to ask for everything, the medicine (we had to stay in a line to receive them), the food, going out and getting back to the ward. It felt really degrading when all the power was taken off from me. One can say, maybe I was not able to take care of myself anymore. But many times, I felt that what I wanted to say was not heard at all. Of course, in those periods of time I could not express myself so well. That is true. But when people are not willing to listen, talking becomes extremely difficult. Maybe it is dangerous to say, but I think psychiatry felt for me like the environment I lived in as a child. Neglect, silence and disrespect”
” I begged to be heard and for guidance to get out of trauma land. This was not honoured at all. Therapists and psychiatrists thought what was right for me. Many times they said that I had to stabilize, but it meant literally loads of sedative medication, and nobody asked me what had happened to me in my childhood.”
I have just been on two course-days about dissociation, and was happy when I discovered a news-letter from ESTD (I am a member now). There I found the following post about how hard it is to become a patient dealing with abuse. I have so much respect for people who want to live a better life after abuse, since this is no easy task. I hope this can be a reminder of just that
Nina
By Esther Veerman
THE CHOICEÂ TO BE A PATIENT
Being a therapist for patients with chronic childhood abuse and neglect needs a conscious choice. Not a lot of colleagues will do the same, and sometimes it is quite a lonely voyage that one starts to make. Becoming a patient with a history of chronic childhood abuse and neglect demands a conscious choice as well. It is not logical to start exploring the traumatic past, once…
I don’t know. Â I think I’m too worried about the inevitability of being referred out, and the chaos of the holidays. Â I put up walls after being inpatient, and I don’t know how to take them down. Â I don’t feel comfortable getting into anything of substance with De (or with anyone). Â It’s a really weird feeling, because I’ve generally felt like I could count on whatever T I happened to be seeing at the time… Â there was a lot of care-taker transference before going inpatient tho, and I think to protect from the inevitable abandonment feelings, I have stopped trusting that she will be there when I need it. Â On one hand, we are planning out the next six weeks and taking about beginning more intense trauma work come January, but then the next sentence is planning being referred out for more long-term therapy because the center generally only does short-term work to deal with the immediate crisis of assault (only, I can’t be in crisis, so I’m a bit confused)…
De asked me what I thought of what she had said. Â I couldn’t find the words, because my head often needs time to process stuff like that. Â She threw a couple of feeling words at me, and I was able to tell her that it was sad, not angry. Â I was able to say that the sad came from getting so close to being able to process things so many times only to have the processes interrupted every time. Â We talked about what “processing” meant. Â I said that I did not expect to forget things, but just not handle them so poorly (and to not be so alone in so much of it)… Â I told her that I was tired of having to keep building up trust with new people all the time just to get to a point of stalling. Â I want to get through this at least once. Â But I don’t know if I trust that I’ll be able to complete it with her, so I am not sure I even want to start. Â I mean, yeah, I really want to start, but not if I have to abruptly stop again… Â she can’t promise not to refer me out. Â I get that. Â But… Â I just don’t know. Â She also doesn’t seem to want to put any effort into helping me get that safety net we both know I need. Â I’ve never had so little help when trying to get more supports in place… Â I have always experienced that the provider helps secure services. Â Having to fight for it all by myself is very overwhelming. Â J (couple’s T) is willing to go to bat for me, but it’s disheartening that De (who insists extra support be in place before we start processing stuff) is unwilling to help. Â I think that’s contributing to me feeling so lost in being able to trust her again. Â I can’t even talk about this with her for 2 weeks because of the holiday. Â Ugh.
I hate that this (not so) irrational fear of abandonment gets in the way of  anything and everything meaningful in my life.  I’ve shut down my feelings because I don’t want to risk destabilizing again over the next few weeks.  De dislikes that I’m not in touch with anything because she says it points to not being stable, or st a bigger risk of losing my sh*t when we actually start going through stuff.  I think it’s more that I need to have distance from the internal chaos before trying to face it again.  I’m afraid it’s all still there under the surface.  If I allow myself to see it at the moment, it will come barreling back.  I’m not willing to risk that right now.  So yeah, I guess things are a bit unstable.  I don’t want to let them get out of hand.  I want to be able to get through this stuff with De and not have to try all over again with someone else.  I don’t want to burn L out on me.  I don’t want to frustrate everyone in my life.  This all just sucks.  I’m feeling very defeated.
I have found a few resources on life with mental health issues without meds since I have chosen to stop taking those prescribed to me, and refuse to return to them for anything more than the occasional PRN (as needed).  I feel lucky that I have a family that supports my decision (backed by my continued over-all improvement).  I know that even if doctors or the courts were to try to force me into it, my family would stand up and fight for my right to refuse any treatment I disagree with… Some people don’t have that support.
I was reading a blog on the coercive and abusive nature of the psychiatric industry here in the US. Â While I experienced some of that living up north, I see more of it down here. Â When I had sought help last week in the form of a brief inpatient stay, I was told by the psychiatrist that “people can’t be in the hospital without meds!” Â I agreed to let him prescribe something for sleep and something for anxiety (though he only wrote the sleep script, and I refused it 2 out of the 4 nights I was there). Â Meds can have a time and a place, as I really needed something to help with the flashbacks Saturday night after they had restricted all my other coping skills while there (I was unable to talk to anyone without being blamed or preached at, I was not allowed to watch TV as they had “closed” the day room for the night, I could not call my wife before they closed the day room because I could not make a long-distance outgoing call, and no one was willing to make it for me, I had no access to music, I was not allowed to draw or write because it was “too late”… that left my option at: continue to escalate my discomfort with the flashbacks or take something to knock me out… I opted for the meds. Â I’m pretty sure they do this on purpose to keep people reaching for the pills). Â I watched more than one patient get drugged to the hilt because they were agitated or annoying (one man was on 100mg of Haldol shots every 4 hours because he was mischievous (just to give you an idea of how much that is, the guy was similar build to me, but if I were to take 5mg pill of Haldol, I would be out for 3 days… they gave him 20x’s that every 4 hours), but really, what do you expect us to do when you only provide entertainment/engagement for max 4 hours out of a day. Â There is 1 TV for 18 people, and if you don’t happen to like what’s on when someone else picks the channel, you are stuck being bored). Â There are 3 phones, but you can’t really call out (and how much time can one person spend on the phone anyway, especially when 17 other people are also trying to communicate with people). Â Access to books, art supplies, music, and supportive others is severely limited. Â Staff are short-tempered because they are burnt out and working with limited resources… So yeah, they medicate people to shut them up. Â It’s easier to deal with a unit full of drooling, asleep patients than it is to try to provide even brief therapy. Â Psychiatrists admit that most meds do not take full effect for several weeks, but they discharge patients after a few days of “stabilization”… So how are those meds really helpful at that point?
Once again, I’m saying our mental health system needs an over-haul. I think we need more focus on therapy and providing social supports for people. Â We need less focus on lining pharmaceutical companies’ pockets with cash. Â We need to listen to people. Â We need to hear their stories and help them work through whatever it is that is causing this pain. Â Meds can be used primarily as short-term interventions, but ultimately leave it up to the patient to decide. Â I hate when a provider asks “Do you think the benefits out-weigh the side-effects?” Â because they never want to hear “no”. Â They only say that to make us feel like we have a choice, and are choosing to feel better by taking meds. Â The truth is, most of the side-effects are not less hazardous or annoying even when weighed against the “benefits.” Â Is feeling numb or drugged or insatiably hungry all the time really better than feeling waves of incredible depression? Â To this day, I maintain that I have more control over myself and my impulses without medication. Â The years since coming off them have proven that. Â I no longer move to OD or attempt before I ask for more support. Â I can think clearly through problems, and easier identify poor lines of thinking (even if I don’t necessarily work to change them at the time). Â The few times I have taken even sleep or anxiety meds this past year, I have found my mood is exponentially more labile and uncontrolled. Â I get irritable and lash out without a thought to the consequences of my actions. Â A few days after having taken my pill, I find I blow up without provocation. Â Once the meds have been processed from my system, I am back to my “normal” self – able to control my temper, which I had never had a problem with before starting meds. That processing time by the way, it’s much longer than they tell you. Â Doctors will say many of the meds leave your system in a few days after stopping. Â The truth for me is that they affect me much longer. Â Trazodone, when used for sleep, is supposed to wear off within a day (according to numerous psychiatrists and a few of my therapists). Â It takes my body up to a week to get rid of the effects of having taken it only once. Â The longer I take it, the longer the effects last in my system. Â The last “regular” med I took caused my body to withdraw from it for months even though I had only taken the med for about 3 weeks. Â The over-all expected effect may wear off faster, but the side-effects and withdrawals can last much longer than they tell people.
Sadly, the mental health system is coercive in more ways than simply pushing meds. Â In FL, you can be Baker Acted for simply “appearing to have a mental health problem”. Â This means that a person can be held in a locked psychiatric facility for up to 72 hours while professionals decide if you actually are a danger to yourself or others. Â Many times, they will medicate first, and make the decisions later. Â If you refuse meds, you are considered “resistant to treatment” or “non-compliant” and can be deemed “problematic”. Â Those labels will then increase your chances of being held longer. Â The doctor at my most recent hospitalization made it clear that if I chose to refuse even the prescription of medication, I would be held under the Baker Act until I “accepted the help.” Â Prior to my voluntary hospitalizations in SFL, I was involuntarily hospitalized several times (a few without merit, but since the psychiatrist was not on the DBT bandwagon, she deemed me a danger to myself and I was hospitalized for 7 days. Â Had she bothered to look into the DBT goals, she would have realized that I had accomplished a lot that weekend and not actually been a danger to myself because I held things in check). Â I was also threatened with being forced into ECT treatment after I refused to undergo the procedure voluntarily. Â The doctor bullied me and threatened me (while I was involuntarily hospitalized under his care) for 5 days before he could not find other psychiatrists to concede I was incapable of making my own decisions. Â Had I not felt as strongly, and not been as educated about my current condition and the uses of ECT, I would likely have given into his tactics just to shut him up (I guess being terrified of my dad for all those years, then learning to stand up to him, helped me stand up to this jerk). Â There were times during his tirades that made me wonder about his own sanity. Â When asked to provide studies and evidence that proved ECT was effective in treating addictions, or actually recommended for abuse/child sexual abuse trauma survivors, he told me it was my responsibility to look that up myself (please keep in mind he knew I had no access to journals, the internet, or any research information while on this locked unit, but still felt I should be the one looking it up). Â It made me wonder if there was any evidence at all to back his claims. Â I asked my family to look it up for me, and then I continued my search once out of the hospital. Â I have yet to find any articles (peer-reviewed case studies or scientific research) proving that he was correct. Â I had found several articles saying that ECT was in fact contraindicated for abuse survivors, but not a single one saying it was more help than hurt. Â I had to fight this battle against a “professional”.
I think a huge problem today is that we, as providers, have fallen into a rut with our available treatments. Â Money talks, and no insurance company is willing to pay for novel treatments. Â There are very few funding sources for research into any new treatments, and large-scale studies need funding. Â Students and researchers need to live after all. Â They need to support themselves, their families, and their work. Â They need people to take risks in backing the trial-and-error needed to come up with viable alternative solutions.
My idea for a competent and flexible treatment center is ever-evolving. Â The more I learn about treatments that don’t work, the more I wish I had the knowledge, funding, and resources to provide options to others (and myself). Â I know I need to work on my own stuff before I can initiate such an under-taking, but I don’t have the funds to find and hire people I think could actually help me. Â Ideally, I would want a safe place to intensively work through all the crap in my head. Â I want that safe place to allow me to utilize my known positive coping skills, but also help me develop new ones. Â I want to have the option of talking about, communicating about, and sorting through everything that comes up when we open the topic of my traumas. Â I want to be able to do that daily, or even several times a day. Â I want to be able to take a break from it for a few days if it gets overwhelming, and not be deemed “stable enough” to be discharged. Â I want to be able to have someone gently guide me back to dealing with things after a break. Â I want to be able to face my triggers and work on coming through them safely on my own, but I also want to know there’s support there if I can’t accomplish that. Â I want access to music and my social network. Â I want access to my animals. Â I want to be able to get out into nature (on my own or with someone else, depending on the situation). Â I want to be allowed to cry, and learn that I can safely do that in front of another person. Â I want to have people challenge me to get through things without resorting to self harm, OD, suicide, or PRN medications, but I also want them to support me if I do slip up and cut or need to take something for anxiety. Â I want to have access to art therapy, music therapy, “alternative” therapies (basically anything that is not the western medical model), meditation, and holistic options. Â There are places out there that offer much of this, but don’t accept insurance or payment plans. Â That limits their treatment to the independently wealthy… and even then they limit what you can listen to, read, watch, or get support with… Â If you happen to disagree with a “core” part of their philosophy, you might as well not show. Â The place that looked best on paper had two major draw-backs: 1) it was self-pay only and very expensive ($16,000/wk and you are expected to stay a minimum of 4 weeks), and 2) you could only engage in recovery-oriented activities. Â No music outside of meditation chants, no reading if it wasn’t directly related to recovery and treatment, and no TV or movies. Â I’m a big proponent of diving head-on into your recovery, but every now and then your brain needs a break. Â Even if I end up triggered or craving, it helps in the long run. Â After all, I want to know how to handle those triggers once I leave the program. Â Totally cutting me off from anything that may or may not cause a bump in my road to recovery only serves to disadvantage me once I leave the padded safety of the treatment center… but it’s a moot point anyway, I could never afford the place…
So yeah, we need to seriously re-think mental health care in this country. Â Everyone is different. Â Everyone responds differently to treatments, so let’s start catering to individuals… I just wish I had the resources and the voice to start the process.
My wife asked why I liked this song so much. Â At first I wasn’t able to put an answer into words. Â I knew it in my head, but a combination of embarrassment and fear kept me from being able to say it… that, and it wasn’t totally cohesive in my head at the time. Â I was able to give her a hurried explanation later on, but it still feels inaccurate or incomplete.
Say something, I’m giving up on you.
I’ll be the one, if you want me to.
Anywhere I would’ve followed you.
Say something, I’m giving up on you.
And I am feeling so small.
It was over my head
I know nothing at all.
And I will stumble and fall.
I’m still learning to love
Just starting to crawl.
Say something, I’m giving up on you.
I’m sorry that I couldn’t get to you.
Anywhere, I would’ve followed you.
Say something I’m giving up on you.
And I will swallow my pride.
You’re the one that I love
And I’m saying goodbye.
Say something, I’m giving up on you.
And I’m sorry that I couldn’t get to you.
And anywhere I would have followed you.
Oh-oh-oh-oh say something, I’m giving up on you.
Say something, I’m giving up on you.
Say something…
I think it hits close to home, not with what I would say, but what I would hear. Â I’ve lost so many in my life because my mental illness is too much for them to handle. Â And each time I swallowed the news from that person without a word. Â I cried to myself, or behind closed doors, or after they left, but not to their face. Â In their presence, at the sound of the news, I shut down. Â I switched my brain off, because it was too much of a loss (it had always been significant people in my life, never just an acquaintance, because acquaintances never knew)…
I first heard this song last week on the unit (I rarely listen to mainstream radio). Â It struck me because L had just mentioned the night before that she was getting burnt-out on all this. Â It brought the fears elicited by that statement into focus, and put words to it. Â It put words to the other losses that had happened under similar circumstances. Â It spoke my fears of losing De to being “too unstable”… and then seeing the video piece with the little girl… it just struck a cord. Â I can relate to this song on so many levels.
Listening to it on incessant repeat lately helps me move through that emotion in measured waves. Â It helps work through the (still stubborn) fears of losing both my T and my wife to this latest bout of decompensation (though both have told me that, as of the moment, they are still around). Â I worry about how much more L can take of this. Â I worry that she has no real supports down here. Â I worry that the added stress of having to deal with the tension in the house will push her to the point of giving up. Â I worry that another hospitalization will mean the loss of De as my therapist (2 hospitalizations would hint to more instability than she feels comfortable moving along with). Â And with my luck, that would also be L’s breaking point… I know these are just fears, but they are real and present. Â I know how taxing all of this can be. Â I understand the impact, even if I don’t like it. Â And I would understand if she were to choose to leave… I would hate it, but it would make sense. Â I think that is why I fear it so much: because I can picture my own limits when placed under the same stressors. Â I could see myself no longer being emotionally able to handle it, and needing to walk away. Â It terrifies me that she will come to the same conclusion and leave to spare herself more pain. Â It scares me a lot.
I know De’s limits, so it’s a bit easier, and a bit more real to think of losing her as my therapist.  I’m constantly reminding myself that I understand her stance.  I know the training that states that trauma work should not proceed without a stable emotional base – for safety reasons.  De reiterated all that yesterday.  She said she would not want to open something up, only to have me without support afterwards and have me become a safety risk… I know I also don’t necessarily want to do it without extra support because I know my own limits.  I have learned that I often need to process things a few hours later, and that the flashbacks kick in when the added safety of being around someone trained to help me process things disappears.  I know how I react to the telling of certain events.  I know it opens a flood-gate of emotions that I don’t often know how to control.  De keeps saying the worst part is behind me: the actual event.  But that’s not the part that scares me.  I am afraid of the onslaught of negative emotions that seep out after the box is opened.  Part of me is scared to tackle all this outpatient, but I also don’t have the option of a competent residential trauma treatment center at my disposal (most accept only private insurance if they accept insurance at all.  So many of the places I looked into are self-pay only).  So, I’m limited to trying this with an outpatient therapist, and I happen to feel comfortable with De.  She knows more of the “dirty” stuff than even Dr. C knew.  She may not have the full picture of it all, but I was at least able to open up around the concept of some of that stuff with her (I think because a lot of it is more common with assault/csa survivors than with the “general” trauma population as evidenced by some of the questions during the intake interview.  Some of the fear of talking about it dissolves when direct questions are asked about the possibility of it being a reality for me)… Even with all my trauma-awareness training and all my intellectual knowledge of the existence of it does not make it easier to accept in myself.  And even knowing it’s just thoughts, and never actions (especially after it was pointed out that my learning experiences until that time could warrant such a line of thinking.  I confirmed that it was abusive thinking and should never be carried out in action, which I had already known in my gut because it had felt wrong.  I’m consciously breaking those cycles), I feel wrong in having had those thoughts.  So anyway, yeah.  De knows more about the possibility of that stuff than anyone else.  If I want to continue working through all this, I would prefer to do it with her.  I know I need to continue to work on it because it’s very much in my face and present down here.  If I don’t work on it, I’m afraid I’d lose myself completely…
But I digress… This song has so much meaning, and serves such a purpose for me right now.  I apologize in advance to L for the obsessive nature by which I will be listening to it for the foreseeable future.  Just bear with me hon, I’ll use my headphones as much as I can 😉
Did this Sunday (11/14/13)… rough sketch, but I need to figure out how to use this program better before I can call anything finished… I’m better with traditional media…
I was granted a limited form of state medical insurance for being “medically needy.” Only problem is, very few providers accept it. The one IOP that kicked me out is also the only IOP that takes it. 211 doesn’t have any suggestions, The state is useless (they emailed me a provider list but all the numbers are wrong or out of service), and the Medicaid hotline has no suggestions.
I’m at a loss. De won’t move forward on the trauma stuff until January (and then only after I’m also connected with other services). So I’m stalled. I see De again on Tuesday and will update on this lack of progress. She doesn’t have many resources to point me towards. I just don’t know what to do anymore. I need services but cannot access them, and there’s no help in trying to secure them. Even the hospital’s social worker couldn’t find an alternate program and she’s supposed to do this regularly. How in the world am I supposed to get anywhere when the professionals can’t?
Sent all but 2 of my geckos to the herp society for re-homing… Â Should have taken the last 2 also, and the snakes… but… I couldn’t do it today. Â Maybe another time.
I want to hide away from all human contact… I would say it’s time for heavy drinking, but the thought of tasting anything at all right now is revolting.
I have this intense drive to please people and make them happy in order to make them like me. It rarely works. Half the people aren’t swayed by my frantic attempts, the other half take advantage. I know I should be more authentic with Dr C, but I don’t want her to give up on me or be mad that I’m just always drama… 
both sides of the wall 