I dreamt about you last night. You were happy in your new job, and your life. I can’t remember much else about the dream, but we connected again in it. I caught you up on everything since we ended, and you let me in on some basics about how you were doing.
It was nice to reconnect, even if it was just a dream…
Peace,
Sam
It’s weird. I don’t often dream about my therapists, but De seems to pop up in them more than most. I think it’s because I feel like I helped break her. I know it was a combination of the job, a lack of appropriate supervision/professional supports, and a lack of effective self-care while she worked in such a stressful position, but I was part of the job… so, yeah. I helped break her.
I still feel guilty around it.
What if I hadn’t been so open about my struggles? What if I tried harder at the techniques she presented? What if I’d made more of an effort to keep myself together? What if I’d have not given her access to my journals? What if I’d have been a better, less demanding client? What if…?
Ultimately, I know it was her responsibility to keep herself balanced and supported. I know that quitting work at the sexual assault counseling center was part of her self-care. I know it was her choice, rather than something she was forced into… yet I feel guilty.
I think my guilt partially stems from my own experiences of burn-out in the field. I let my own experiences build up so much that they broke my defenses. I definitely feel guilty about the way I left my clients at the domestic violence counseling center. They had no notice, no termination, no chance to either say goodbye or run from the experience. I took their choice away. I took my choice away. I let myself fall apart too much before I finally was forced to pull away… I left because I landed in the hospital again (and again, and again). I could no longer function in the basics of my life, forget about in an intense and emotion-filled work environment…
De never got to that point before she realized she needed out. I’m grateful for that.
I guess I dream about her more often because I worry about her more than other therapist’s I’ve had. I need to convince myself that she’s happy and thriving, even if I don’t know that for sure…
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.
She doesn’t think I’m a worthless, annoying, frustrating piece of shit.
I didn’t piss her off by calling for support the other day.
She returned my call and even said I could call her back to talk.
She was patient and kind and reassuring when I did. It was during her lunch, but she didn’t rush me.
She reminded me that there’s only a few days left anyway. Either I will be all set for the move or I won’t be, but it won’t be the end of the world.
She’s all for me going out with my friend tonight for one last trivia night. Her enthusiasm over that made it much easier to tell my friend I’ll be there.
She didn’t say much of anything particularly inspiring or profound, but she managed to say what I needed to hear: that she know’s I’m struggling with this; it’s ok that I’m struggling with it; and it will all be ok soon (for whatever reason, it sinks in when she says it, but it feels merely obligatory when L says it…).
Dr. C does not hate me either.
She doesn’t think I’m a worthless, annoying, frustrating piece of shit.
She scheduled an appointment with me for after the move despite me being so needy before even officially returning to her.
She has seen me at my worst, and is still willing to take me back as a client.
I get to hang out with M&B tonight.
M & I have known each other forever, and she still likes me.
B likes me by default I think… at least, he puts up with me.
I’m really gonna miss them when I go, but tonight we will kick ass on trivia.
Some friends will be there forever; M is one. I’m really lucky to call her a friend ❤
L will be here in less than 4 days!
I will physically see my wife again for the first time in 7 months!!!! 😀
I don’t know who will be happier: me, the kids, or L… I think maybe the kids, b/c there’s 4 of them, and they have not see her at all since she left last May. They get super-excited when someone returns from getting the mail, and that takes less than a minute. I’m sure they will not know how to contain themselves when L arrives.
I can’t seem to stop crying. This move is what my wife and I have been working towards for three years, but it still hurts. And it’s all right at the same time as a really crappy anniversary. It just sucks. I’m not sure where to turn for real-life support around any of it. I’m not even sure what I would want or need as support. No one seems to be able to understand that it sucks as much as it does (I’m not sure even I totally get why it hurts so much). Everyone thinks I should just be happy that I’m back with my wife (which I totally am!), but there’s also this anniversary of my aunt’s death (she was the safe place to go when my dad got out of control), and losing her house, and having to re-home one of my cats as well as say goodbye to my mom & her critters, and leaving my friends, and having to have said goodbye to TM… and I’m pms’ing, which ALWAYS makes everything a million times harder.
It’s weird, because my ptsd got so much worse when I moved here, but the thought of leaving the week after next is also really triggering. I feel like I’m leaving my mom to an abusive situation again (did that at 17 when I couldn’t stay at my home any longer b/c of my dad), though this time she lives alone – there isn’t any current abuse, but it still *feels* the same, and I don’t know how to shake that feeling. I was never good at protecting her or taking care of her as a kid, and I’m no better at it as an adult. I feel like a little kid again. Writing it out here though, I’m realizing it’s probably mostly the old stuff, and it’s kinda helping to recognize that.
Yesterday I gave in and went out with friends for our usual Wednesday night trivia at a local restaurant. I should not have gone out and spent money, but I want to get all the time in with them that I can. It took me 10 minutes to walk into the place though. I couldn’t stop crying in the car. On the way home, I tore out of the parking lot and cried again when I got back into my driveway. I know I won’t lose touch with my friend b/c we’ve been friends since middle school. We just keep finding each other and catching up, but it’s another loss at a time when so many are already very prominent.
I haven’t cried this much since ending with De this same time last year. I hate it. I don’t know how not to be overwhelmed by this. I have to keep it together though. I have to sort through all my crap and pack it up and wrap up loose ends. All I want to do is either hide in bed and cry, or go to the beach and ignore the move (still trying to figure out how to get more beach time in before I leave).
I’m really hating that I don’t have a therapist to talk to right now. I could call Dr. C, but I need to ask her if I can skip a payment on my old bill next month. I don’t want to have to simultaneously ask for extra help from her when I know I can’t pay for it in the moment… I’m kinda mad the stupid IOP was so triggering. It would have been nice to be able to process some of this stuff. It’s easier to be rambling and directionless in my whining in a setting like that where it’s somewhat expected. And it would be ok to whine and ask for support. I don’t know how to do that with people in my life. I’m supposed to know what I’m asking for, and how to ask for it, and how to do it on my own before even asking. That’s just what society expects. That way you are not really asking for anything, just acknowledging that you are stuck. People don’t have to be made uncomfortable by not knowing what to do (even if all you need is for them to listen and care so you can just get the jumbled mess out of your head)…
I’m really glad to be back with my wife soon, but I wish the change wasn’t happening on the stupid anniversary. A month earlier or later would have been a bit easier (later, I’m guessing, would have been easiest b/c things always get easier once the anniversary passes… and I might have had TM’s support through that day). July 7th has not been easy at all since being down here. At least up north, some years I wouldn’t even know it was coming up. Down here though, the distress over it hits hard more than a month before, and it just keeps getting worse as the day nears. For the past 2 years, it’s also been the time I have to say goodbye to my therapist, so there’s no reliable support around getting through it. 😦
I’m so tired of all this. It needs to get better again up north. I don’t have the energy to keep going through this all the time.
Sorry. I don’t know how not to be so needy right now.
With the end looming for my therapy, I find myself wanting to spill all sorts of info to TM. I’m not sure why. I suddenly have questions and thoughts and I want to ask her a whole bunch of stuff about my abuse and ptsd and self-harm… why can I only muster this resolve when I’m moving on to someone else? It’s like it only feels safe enough to bring all this up when the threat of having to see the person again is over. I am suddenly realizing I trusted her enough to express this stuff, but I kept freezing and getting scared before. I always worried she would hate me or use what I told her against me in some way. I didn’t think she would actually do those things, but I feared she might… Now I want to get as much support from her as possible, only it’s too late because there isn’t enough time.
These are the ultimate doorknob disclosures. They are all the big things I was scared to address, but now I desperately want to find support around… :sigh: Will I ever learn to do this while there’s still time to talk?
Now you are seeing the hopeless mess that I can become. I don’t like that you will remember me this way. I don’t like that we are ending on this note. I’d prefer you to think of me as someone who can figure shit out and make it in life (coz someone needs to believe that about me. I certainly don’t)…
I’ve put up walls b/c I need you to be a stranger right now. I need to be able to leave without feeling completely crushed about all the losses. It’s not just you I have walls up around. It’s the house, and the state, and mom, and the dog and cats, and art time with my friend, & everything… I’m only going to allow myself to miss the beach. That is all. Everything else is too raw and too painful.
I still want to ask if it would be ok if I called you once I’m settled again… I was going to ask if I could call you on the anniversary day, but it will end up being the day we leave. I will need to concentrate on driving and hanging with the wife… I hope she knows she will have to do the first leg of the journey, the one that gets us out of the driveway and away from this neighborhood. I’m not sure how to say goodbye to all this…
Maybe the IOP will work out? I’m not getting my hopes up, because I don’t have faith in them billing for copays, but at least I can go to the intake without having to pay anything that day. Then we can go from there. The little kid in me wants to keep seeing you as much as I can before I go, but the other part of me sees the heaviness of the depression and knows I would be better off with more support…
I really have no idea what I’m doing, but I know I will come out the other side. I always do.
Please don’t actually hate me, just maybe let me think you do for the moment.
I just agreed to join the ranks of “Admin” for an online PTSD support forum. I had been asked a few times over the past year, and have declined every time. This time, I decided to get more info about what was involved. It seemed too much, but I told the group’s creator that I could help out here and there… She announced it on the board, and suddenly the panic set in. I nearly cried. I apologized and ran out of there.
What did I get myself into?
This is along the lines of work I have done for years. It’s what my degrees are in. It’s what all my experience is in… it’s also what has led to numerous triggered episodes and heavy burn-out. Can I do this? :gulp!:
The pros:
I like helping people.
It’s not like I will need to give notice if it gets overwhelming and need to step down
It’s just online
They are aware of my limited availability,
It’s not in a therapeutic, professional capacity
It’s just rule enforcement and peer support
I can still look to the group for support as needed…
The cons:
PANIC!!!!!!
Having to be more of a support when I am used to going there for support,
Needing to keep on top of making sure people are following the rules,
Potentially confronting nuisance members,
Having made a commitment to pay close attention to something that I can’t even regularly get alerts for because it gets overwhelming.
Ok. Just have to remember to breathe. I can give it a try for a bit, and I can back out if need be. The creator of the group is aware of my hesitation. She was clearly ok enough with my limited availability and reliability… It will be ok. Just breathe…
Been having a really rough couple of days. Trying to distract through art and getting out of the house and all sorts of other things. Been having trouble with my “containment” as everything has yet to be transferred from the messy closet to the pensieve. Then last night I remembered a concept from art therapy that suggests changing elements in an expressive piece can help change your understanding of them. Makes sense…
So last night I took the journal page with the closet busting at the seams, and added a pensieve. It’s a magical object, so it doesn’t need to totally work the way Rowling suggested in Harry Potter… instead of having to individually retrieve memories and place them into the bowl, this pensieve is set to “automatic upload”… it won’t dump anything without my initiation, but it will transfer all the memories from the closet to itself, kinda like my Dropbox is set to automatically upload photo files from my phone. There’s too much to move one by one, so the creators of this pensieve set up a batch file upload 😉
Other distractions worked on recently: (complete with gratuitous kitty-sleeping-on-mom’s-art-supplies shot)
This last one is still a work in progress. I added some glass bead gel to it, but I really am not liking how it’s looking, so I’m just going to post a pic before I ruined it with the gel.
I’m supposed to meet with TM for an additional appointment today. I’m feeling guilty for taking up her limited time today. She just called to change the appointment time because of a last minute change in her schedule. After hanging up with her, I wanted to call back and tell her to just cancel. I know her time is super-limited this week. She shouldn’t have to juggle things to fit me in. I should stick to the original schedule and not bug her for more support. I should be able to figure this out on my own by now. I should have a better handle on things… ok, I admit I’m handling this better than a year ago, and certainly better than I would have 4 years ago, but the progress is too slow. I should be so much further along by now. I shouldn’t need to waste my therapist’s time with stupid shit like not being able to handle the flooding and flashbacks…
I’m mad at myself for needing so much support over this. But mostly I’m disappointed that I just can’t seem to “get it right”. I can’t seem to learn how to shake off the past (even when it comes busting into my living room)…
My plan for today: try meditation for a while. Go to therapy (and try not to feel too bad about wasting her time). Go to the beach and try to float mindfully in the water. It’s supposed to storm today, but that just means the beach will hopefully be less crowded.
An article on self-compassion and understanding your limits was definitely something I needed to read today.
The last few days have me slamming hard into my own limits around processing my trauma. I am working towards acknowledging them to myself, and admitting them to TM (as much as I don’t want to in the moment because it means we will need to tweak our approach). I certainly want to push past my limits, but I need to do so carefully. I really wish I could keep seeing her for longer, and maybe a bit more often to help move past this, but therapy has its own limits and boundaries.
On another note, a friend pointed out something to me last night that was hard to hear, but definitely something that needs addressing. She was suggesting some coping strategies that I have used in the past, but have become huge triggers in the last year (mindfulness around breathing, and progressive muscle relaxation… well, they were always triggers, but not this intense in the past. I could utilize at least breathing techniques in the presence of someone I trusted. I can no longer do that without triggering or intensifying flashbacks). My problem comes from the memories that have surfaced recently. In them, I would pretend to sleep in order to “get it over with” faster. Pretending to sleep involved slowing my breath and relaxing my muscles so the person would believe I was asleep… I didn’t understand why these two techniques were so difficult for me until last year, when the cognitive memories started accompanying the physical and emotional ones. Since then, my reactions to the two techniques are incredibly intense and visceral. In the past, I would panic when I tried them, but I was able to try them without my whole body shaking; not so much any more. I know I need to work on this, but I’m not totally sure how. Time with TM is limited in so many ways, and there is so much to cover. 😦
Anyway, back to the article on self-compassion. It can be found here on GoodTherapy.org. While their articles are often geared towards professionals in the field, they have a wealth of articles for clients, friends, and family. I don’t always agree with what they post, but some are spot on, like the one mentioned.
Had a weird dream, but I don’t remember what it was. Even the understanding of knowing it was a weird dream is fading. The harder I try to pinpoint what it was about, the faster it slips away. It’s leaving me with a weird feeling though. I wish I knew how to describe it. I usually call it “post-weird-dream weirdness” (very descriptive, I know). Maybe it’s a feeling of still being partially in the dream; as if my my body were still there at the same time it’s here? That’s not really it either.
I’m not sure. Anyone else ever have a weird feeling after dreaming? Can you pin down what it is? Do you know how to describe it?
On another note; I had found the blog from the summer when TL had finally called for the first time. I was struggling a lot back then (more so then this time) and I was so relieved that she had called… while I’m not as desperate as I was then, I still wish the next new therapist would call. I know, I’m probably too reliant on therapy right now, but I also know it’s not a permanent thing. I’m just a bit lost. I could use the support. When I can figure out how to get back to a meaningful life, it won’t matter as much.
I think I remember part of the weird dream… I think it was… gone again. Oh well…
I’ll give you countless amounts of outright acceptance if you want it
I will give you encouragement to choose the path that you want if you need it
You can speak of anger and doubts your fears and freak outs and I’ll hold it
You can share your so-called shame filled accounts of times in your life and I won’t judge it
(and there are no strings attached to it)
You owe me nothing for giving the love that I give
You owe me nothing for caring the way that I have
I give you thanks for receiving it’s my privilege
And you owe me nothing in return
You can ask for space for yourself and only yourself and I’ll grant it
You can ask for freedom as well or time to travel and you’ll have it
You can ask to live by yourself or love someone else and I’ll support it
You can ask for anything you want anything at all and I’ll understand it
(and there are no strings attached to it)
You owe me nothing for giving the love that I give
You owe me nothing for caring the way that I have
I give you thanks for receiving it’s my privilege
And you owe me nothing in return
I bet you’re wondering when the next payback shoe will eventually drop
I bet you’re wondering when my conditional police will force you to cough up
I bet you wonder how far you have now danced your way back into debt
This is the only kind of love as I understand it that there really is
You can express your deepest of truths even if it means I’ll lose you and I’ll hear it
You can fall into the abyss on your way to your bliss I’ll empathize with
You can say that you have to skip town to chase your passion and I’ll hear it
You can even hit rock bottom have a mid-life crisis and I’ll hold it
(and there are no strings attached)
You owe me nothing for giving the love that I give
You owe me nothing for caring the way that I have
I give you thanks for receiving it’s my privilege
And you owe me nothing in return
Yesterday was horrid, today was better. Hung out with a friend. Though I was pretty distracted, I managed to make some headway on holiday cards.
The whole time I was swinging from ok to really sad and distant. I felt bad because my friend picked up on it. She asked me a few times what I was stuck on… There’s only so many times you can say “I’m not quite sure where to go with this”. I landed on “I’m just tired”. She took it at face value. I was ok with it. I didn’t feel like explaining it all.
The sadness hit again pretty fast after I left her house. It made it hard to concentrate on driving home. I intended to stop at the grocery store, but found myself at walmart for some reason. I know I wanted cookies, but I also know walmart doesn’t have the yummy cookies I was hoping for. I went in, walked around, and it took me several minutes to realize I was at the wrong store. I wasn’t dissociating, because I knew which store I was in, but I didn’t seem to register that it wasn’t the store at which I had intended to stop. I left and headed to the grocery store (and proceeded to spend way more money on comfort food than I care to admit).
The sadness keeps coming in waves. I’m ok, then I’m drowning in sadness, then I’m ok, then I’m drowning again… I caved and left a message for TL. When I left the message (or tried to), the receptionist was confused. I had to explain that TL was still seeing me through the end of the year, and that in the past either the clinical director, the office manager, or the receptionist had gotten a message to her for me. His confusion underscored to me how uncomfortable I am with this arrangement. Either way, next time I see her, I need to talk to her about this. I need to not be her only client there anymore. It makes me so uncomfortable to be different. I really like TL. I don’t want to lose her as a therapist, but if she’s not there anymore for anyone but me, I don’t want to be the reason she’s coming back. I don’t like considerations. I don’t like feeling “special”. I don’t like anything that makes me stick out. I want to blend in. I want to be the same as everyone else. I don’t want to be seen, or have the chance to be seen… I really need to talk to her about this. I think I want the next session to be our last… It’s that uncomfortable.
That realization is making me more sad. I think I need to tell her over the phone that the next session needs to be the last… 😦 No matter how bad the depression gets, I can’t handle this being the support structure. I’ll deal through the end of the year. I’ll figure shit out, and if I have to find support elsewhere, I will. I can’t do this though. It triggers too much. I already have strong emotional reactions to her because something about her reminds me of the past. This just complicates things… 😦
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 hate myself right now. I had the opportunity to ask for help, and I stumbled. She asked what I needed, and all I could say was to know if she had earlier time this week. I couldn’t admit to struggling. I couldn’t admit to floundering with everything. I couldn’t form the words needed to be able to ask for extra support, even if it would not be something she could provide…
I can’t do this. Daily I fight the urge to down all my pills, or slice my body to shreds. I talk myself out of careless driving, and other destructive actions. I was too scared that she would suggest the er. I was too scared that I’d wind up hospitalized… I don’t want to wind up hospitalized. I don’t need physical containment, but I know that’s what it would sound like. I need support in figuring out how to turn the overwhelming into something I can handle. Except I don’t know how to say that. I know how to say I’m falling apart; not how to say I’m totally overwhelmed and need help with emotional containment… I still have learning to do. And learning sucks.
yesterday’s appointment with TL was much better than the first. There was a ton of anxiety leading up to it, but I sat it through and met with her (albeit about 30 minutes late because there was a miscommunication amongst office staff). I was able to give her the stuff I had meant to read her that first time around, and then we talked about some more history (specifically, the brief, cliff-notes version of the stories behind the flashbacks). She was able to make me feel a bit more comfortable in sitting with her. I can see her being a bit intense at times, but hopefully we will fall into a balance there. She was quick to tell me that we didn’t have to talk about what it was that was bothering me, but I found my voice enough to ask for a few more minutes to build up to talking. She seemed to take it in stride.
The hour went by too quickly again, but I let her keep the list. I hope it helps some. We also switched up the schedule some. I was going to ask if she had anything earlier in the day (because waiting all day builds too much anxiety), and she was hoping for something earlier also, and on a different day. We settled on middle-of-the-day Thursday, though that will mean a week and a half between session at a time I should be asking for shorter times between session… Oh well.
I left there emotionally raw and super tired. I came home with enough energy to fix the bed (had started washing the sheets earlier in the day) and collapse into it. I took something to help me calm down and sleep, and I am still feeling the effects at 1:30 the next afternoon… I guess this is ok for now. I guess being drugged-up and only partially feeling the flashbacks is better than the alternative of full-on flashbacks all day… I really need things to change though. I really need something helpful to get me through all this because it’s exhausting in so many ways…
I had called De earlier today. I was a mess and wanted her to read something on my blog to her. I’m glad she had time to read it with me still on the phone. We talked a bit and she was so nice. I give her no reason to be nice to me. In fact I give her every reason to hate me, yet she says she won’t hate me. She talked to me as I cried, and I could do nothing but whisper my answers to her (I’m surprised she could make out what I was saying)… Talking to her made me feel a bit better. She encouraged me to do specific things to help get through the day. And she made me promise to show up to tomorrow’s appointment… I had asked that it be our last (because I feel like I’m just crumbling and it would be easier to do without the expectation to show up to her office twice a week). I think she may have figured that out because she said she still wants me to come until our last appointment. She also wants me to follow-through on the intake I got at another agency for Monday… I just don’t want to bother anyone else with the mess that is me at the moment. I know this is just me feeling very worthless at the moment. I know this will pass, but it has a weight anchored in my chest today. And I want to just stay in bed (and maybe cry if I could find the courage to do it again).
The flashbacks have slowed to just intrusive memories today, without the full virtual reality effect. I still feel the body memories, but they are not as strong as yesterday. I’m quite ready to be done with all this ptsd and trauma crap, I’m cooked on it.
I saw De this afternoon, and it was a good session. I was able to talk about some stuff (well, acknowledge some stuff, we didn’t talk in-depth about too much). I was able to tell her that I was having trouble with writing my story as hers, and that I thought I needed to talk more about my story. She confirmed that it wasn’t the same story. She was really gentle about it, and I’m really glad she didn’t make me feel like an ass for admitting that I felt like I burnt her out. She talked about the turn-over rate at the agency, and how long she had been there. She reassured me I was not the reason she was leaving, but that the cumulative effect of working there for the last handful of years has taken its toll. We compared notes on burn-out rates for various concentrations in the field. I noticed again the weight was gone from her. I told her I thought it would be a good idea for me to find another therapist for the gap between our termination and my move. She agreed. We brainstormed a few ideas, and she asked how likely I was to be able to make some calls between today and Friday. We agreed that proactive is good, and that what I’m looking for is pretty restrictive in terms of choices (someone who either can take my useless state insurance, or someone who has a sliding scale; someone without a huge waiting list; someone who can be consistent through the time I move; someone with more availability than once a week). She brought up the idea of a php again, which I would totally be open to, but I don’t qualify for either of the two that take my insurance. We even contemplated me lying about taking meds just so I could get the support I need. She said she will think more about it, but that maybe we can create a “php-type” structure that involved frequent contact with a professional, but also gave me some structure. I hope we can come up with something. I know that type of stuff helps me a lot.
The session was over before I knew it. There’s still a lot weighing on me, but at least this one felt productive on more than one front. I see her again on Friday. On the way home, I placed the two requests for information she had asked me to make. Now it’s just a matter of hearing back from them… I would feel better knowing I’m not totally on my own when we are done.
Changes are hard. Goodbyes are really hard, and loss feels like an enormous black hole in my heart… I wish I knew how to work through it. I guess that’ll be a topic for another therapist…
So I’ve had a few hours to sit with the concept of De leaving the agency. I had cried about it (yup, actual tears spilling down my face. Not just tearing up, but real crying complete with gross boogers). I was somewhat able to “talk” to L about it. I have thought about it, and processed it, and moved past the anger (it was fleeting). I’m in a weird flat place right now. If I think too hard or too long about it, I will cry again (have I mentioned I hate crying?). So I’m concentrating on little things. I’m concentrating on typing my words correctly (I’m sure there will be many mistakes, and I suck at proof-reading, always have). I’m concentrating on keeping the dogs from going nuts because they are tired and want to get to bed. I am taking breaks to take them outside one by one so I can finally put the boys to sleep. I was concentrating on listening to my mom as she talked about how we may go about fixing the fridge. I’m concentrating on the decision-making process of whether or not to start into Game of Thrones again tonight, or go with something easier, like Orange is the New Black, or Grey’s Anatomy or Dexter. I’m concentrating on wanting to find a way to express myself either through art or writing, but certainly no more crying.
I’ve been able to formulate and articulate to L that this overwhelming loss I feel at the termination with De is really the compilation of losses that I have yet to deal with. It goes back decades. It’s disproportionate to the relationship because it is so much more than just this one relationship. It’s the loss of friends and family and memories and innocence. It’s the loss of supports and home-bases. It’s the loss of a sense of security. And it’s the premature loss of someone I had expected to lose, but managed to trust anyway. I am not good with loss. I never have been. Sure I can smile through changes, but the tears always glisten in my eyes. This time they broke free. I don’t know if was because of how worn-down I feel lately, the creeping depression, or the fact that De was the first (only) person to hear some really heavy stuff. I was prepared to walk away from this relationship at the time of my move. I was expecting it to help keep me balanced as my stress rose. Just last week I had asked her for more support. This week it’s all going away much faster than I had thought. It’s pointless to try to find another therapist for those last 6 weeks, so I guess I will have to just figure it out on my own (though I am toying with the idea of trying to get a referral to someone for those 6 weeks)… I know it will be ok, because it always is in the end, but right now it feels really shitty.
When she first told me, I couldn’t exactly speak. I was too busy trying to hold back the tears and the sobbing because I knew it was disproportionate to the situation. My tears didn’t listen to my insistence. They spilled down my cheeks anyway. When she asked me to articulate what was going through my head at the moment, all I could muster was a half-whispered “whatever” through clenched teeth. I was afraid that if I opened my mouth more than that to speak, I would either sob uncontrollably and loudly, or I would speak out of my fear-driven (and old) anger. She challenged my “whatever” by saying that she knew this was hard for me, and she knew it wasn’t “whatever”. All I could do was shake my head as more tears streamed down my face. I couldn’t look at her, so I looked everywhere else in the office and just repeated “whatever” one more time. We sat in silence for a bit longer as I looked everywhere but where she was sitting. More rogue tears. She asked if I could tell her what I was thinking, if self-harm urges came up. I realised then that my head was frantically backpedaling in an attempt to halt all thought (much like pedaling backward on a BMX bike to brake). There was a forced-stillness in my head. Conscious thoughts had stopped. All efforts were being diverted to stave off any melt-down beyond what had happened. It struck me as odd that there were no self-harm thoughts or suicidal thoughts. There just were no thoughts. She eased into a verbal safety contract, and was able to joke around it, which helped pull me back into the room and back to functioning. When I stumbled over concepts as I tried to agree to what she was asking, she helped out by saying “Whatever you need to agree to to get back here in one piece next week is what we are going to agree to”. In the past, she had always wanted specifics, but I don’t think I could have given those to her in the moment. I think I recognized a bit of freedom in that change (and I think I just now recognized how the weight was off her this session. It was familiar in that I had felt it after I had given notice at the group home, but still had to deal with the kids for 2 more weeks. I no longer cared about the strict rules of etiquette because I was leaving soon. I was able to be more genuine, and the girls had picked up on it with me. I think that’s what I felt from De today. It was a freedom from the pressure to be “perfect” in the role… It’s funny how some guidelines are in place to help us do our jobs better, but in the end we are burdened with the pressure to stay within the boundaries – we lose our genuineness…) but I digress. We chatted about other things for the remainder of the session. She had asked something about letting “us” know if I ever figured out a way to apply my knowledge-base in psych to myself. I think she was going to go somewhere else with that, but she stopped herself. I talked about my complete inability to have access to both my emotional and intellectual sides at the same moment. We talked about this blog, and how it had been born of the idea of being able to look at all of it over time (the more professional side of me when I am in a more emotional space, and the more emotional side of me when I am locked in professional mode). I told her about an early entry on the concept of “attention-seeking” and how it is not always as sinister-ly manipulative as the field makes it out to be… I kept a close eye on the clock because I had brought my Wreck This Journal with me to show her. With about 5 minutes left, I changed the topic to that. She always seems genuinely interested in what I bring in, but this time there was something else again. I showed her the piece with the prompt to “make a paper chain“. She seemed excited about it. It was weird because the excitement was different… I’m not sure how to describe it. She said something along the lines of wishing she could show it to other people because it conveyed so much more than just words could. The way she said it made me feel like she was trying to make a point to someone. I had wanted to tell her she could (I may have imagined it, but it looked like she was ready to get up and walk out of her office with the book. She scootched forward in her chair as she had said that about showing it to others), but I was caught off guard. The words “you could” spun around in circles in my brain, but never made it to my tongue… We moved on to scheduling after she looked a bit more at my book. She pondered the best way to fit in the second appointment. I put my vote in for Tuesday & Friday citing my “OCD-ish tendencies” for wanting to space out the days a bit more. She actually laughed and said she prefered that for the same reason (more genuine-ness). So I will be seeing her twice a week for the next few weeks until she leaves. We will be figuring out the content of our sessions as we go. She checked-in about the possibility of doing more Duckboy work on Tuesday, and would I be ok if she sprung it on me that day. I told her I was open to whatever, but that I needed her to lead if it was the Duckboy stuff because I feel totally lost on what to do with it. I think she was still deciding on how to approach Tuesday. There are a lot of days between now and Tuesday, so my opinion may change, but for now I’m ok with pushing the assault topics. I guess it depends on how far I get with this internal processing of her leaving instead of me leaving. I may decide by Tuesday tha I really need to talk to her about some of this stuff and whatever else it will bring up.
I need to learn to get over myself. I need to learn to rely on myself. I need to be ok with the boundaries placed around certain relationships, and the amount of support I can receive from them…
I’ve been struggling in therapy lately. I feel like I go in, she talks to me, she validates what I say, but it doesn’t feel like enough. I feel like she’s not listening, not letting me talk. But when she gives me the chance, I don’t know what to say, so I say nothing. Then I get mad at her because I feel lacking. The truth is, it’s all my fault. I don’t say what I need to. I am not clear in what I’m asking for, even when I think I am (but I’m not). I don’t know what to say I need because I’m afraid. I’m afraid to get rejected. I’m afraid that I’m as much of a mess as I think I am (as I have been told I was). So I need to get over myself. Because none of this is helping anything at all.
It’s a rough transition. Both L and I are struggling with the concept of being separated. Both of us are struggling with our environments and our inner demons. But both of us also seem to be finding a way through. I wrote a really long but honest blog to De today. It helped a lot to simply know that she will know all of that, to know that I was honest and putting things out there in hopes of getting support. It’ll be an uncomfortable session on Friday (because a lot of it is surrounded by huge amounts of shame), but at least I’m being honest and trying to figure things out.
I’m very aware of my neediness and my mal-adaptive thought patterns, but I am having trouble changing them all by myself. Awareness is the first step though. I am hoping she can help me with the changing piece. I was able to ask for some specific things directly for probably the first time ever. I was able to identify specific things, how they would help, and what I would like to ask from her around them. That’s not an easy thing for me. I often have trouble identifying and admitting to my needs. I think it comes from a combination of having them either flat-out denied (by being told that they are not actually my needs, and my needs are something else), or having serious consequences for voicing them. I can remember a number of times when my opinions were denied and corrected (some as recent as a few weeks ago). It’s an interesting dynamic that happens in my family. I will say something along the lines of “I need to talk to someone about X” only to get the response: “No. That won’t help. You need to do Y” Even if I give concrete examples of how Y has been counter-productive, it is insisted that I really do want Y, just afraid to say it. When someone hears things like that often enough (and the person is forceful enough), they learn to change their desires to fit what is being insisted upon. I guess this doesn’t happen so much if you have no history of abuse, but it certainly happens with me. I lose the drive to argue when no argument in the world would help my case.
I’m headed back down south after our “vacation” up north, where I’m leaving L to get us settled before I come up with the zoo. This is the first time we have voluntarily spent time apart for longer than a week, and definitely the longest we have been apart since meeting 6 years ago. This will be a test of our relationship, but it will hopefully help us ease out of our intense co-dependence…
I’m a bit nervous about my eventual relocation. I was hoping to get back to being able to see Dr C, but she has not responded to any calls or messages since I mentioned we were coming back. I know I have time yet, but I like to plan when it comes to this stuff. I like to know I have support through transitions. We’ll see. She may return a call when it’s finally closer to the move. If not, I will have to find someone else that can take state insurance and has expertise in trauma, sexual assault, and “bat-shit crazy” (lol)…
I am totally relieved because J will still see us next week, then work something out to try to see us every other week in the evenings while L and I figure out this move stuff. She jokingly said it’s contingent on the move happening as planned, but she said she will look into it and see how her new schedule works. I’m so happy that we will at least have her support for another week, if not throughout the move process. I am a bit mixed about it though because I had started to come to terms with the loss. That’s fine. I will deal with it again as it happens. The support means more to me then does getting the loss over with to stifle the hurt. It’s kinda like with the dog: being able to have more time with Twiggy means more to me than getting the hurt of losing her over with.
We did give J the bracelet today though, and she seemed to really like it. She suggested that we try to sell them. I told her our audience was limited, but I would love to make some sales. We jokingly told her to tell her friends. I know it’s a confidentiality thing with her, but it would be nice to get more sales. I think I may look into opening an etsy shop for art and jewelry, but I would need to work hard on more inventory.
Things are looking up. I think me being a mess will be postponed for a while, and I hope to deal with it better when it does come… I’m so relieved.
De did most of the talking today, only it didn’t bother me. I had no words. I still have no words, just really overwhelmed… she validated some of the little I did manage to speak, and was really gentle about denying some of the things my head fills in behind what she says (that I’m a pain in the ass, drama queen, pathetic, hopeless, frustrating, useless, she never wants to see me again…).
We shredded the pictures of Duckboy I had taken in last week. It was anticlimactic…
I think I just want to crawl into bed and stay there.
I spent the day running around doing errands. It was really only supposed to be one errand, but it led to others that eventually stole the day away.
Original mission: get silicone lubricant for the pins in the new calipers (mom’s rear brakes were changed by your’s truly and mom & L on Saturday).
I grab one of the dogs (because he has way too much energy and he’s driving everyone nuts) and head out. I decide to also stop at the pet store (to which I have a free $5), so bringing the dog makes sense. Ok, quick trip to the auto parts store and the pet store. I should be home in an hour… or so I thought. Just a few lights shy of the auto parts store, my car flashes a warning at me saying that my oil levels are dangerously low and I need to turn my car off NOW. I pull into the parking lot of said parts store and pick up a quart of oil, then ask the lady behind the desk if they have the lubricant I’m looking for. She shakes her head, and sells me something 5 times as expensive. I cringe, but go back to the car. I toss the lubricant into the passenger seat and proceed to add quart of oil to my engine. I check my dip stick only to find I’m still not registering. Great. I need an oil change anyway, so I call my preferred mechanic (15 minutes away) to make sure they have time to fit me in. Yes. I pop in the pet store along the way to get what I need (forgetting that the same chain has a store less than a mile past my mechanic on the way home… oh well). I get what I need and the puppy and I head off to get the oil changed. It takes 20 minutes to get there, then the puppy and I wait an hour for them to finish (meanwhile puppy starts chewing the furniture in the waiting room, so I take him for a quick walk down the street). We return in time to pay and leave. While there however, I had asked the mechanic what they used for the lubricant. He tells me that the woman at the parts store sold me something that is pretty useless anywhere on the car but the calipers. He suggests I check out another store for the right stuff. I stop there on the way home to return the horrendously expensive lube I originally purchased, and pick up the “complete brake kit” they happen to have on sale for less than half the cost of the lube (packet of lube included as well as brake fluid and brake cleaner). I have brake fluid at home, but if it means buying all three things for $2 more than the lube alone, I bite. The puppy and I head for home.
Once home, the puppy is occupied with telling the other dogs of his adventures in the last few hours. Mom, L and I head outside to “bleed” the brake fluid from the car. Tire one done without a hitch. I move on to tire 2 only to find that the caliper is spewing brake fluid all over the place (it’s pretty corrosive stuff once it touches air). It has stripped the coating off the inside of mom’s tire hub, started to melt the rubber on the shocks, and is in the process of eating away at the first layer of anti-corrosive on the axle and rest of the brake assembly. I have L call our “car” friend for tips. We try a bunch of things only to find that the re-manufactured caliper I installed is defective. Great. I also ask him how to clean up the brake fluid from the rest of the car to avoid damage. He says all I need is to spray it with some brake cleaner (serendipitously picked up earlier today) to neutralize it, then wipe the excess off. Yay! one thing I can fix immediately.
I leave mom babysitting the car and tools outside while L and I go to exchange the caliper at the closest store. When I get there, I am told they do not have any more in stock. I am given the address to another “local” store that has the part. L and I drive off (my car had mentioned I was low on fuel earlier this afternoon, but I had forgotten to stop at the time. now she’s blinking and throwing up the “low fuel” warning again. We make it to the next store. I exchange the faulty caliper. I also want to buy new brake line bolts for both the rear brakes. This store only has one, but I can buy 2 and pick the second one up at another of their stores. Ok… I make the purchase and L and I are off again. We drive to the 3rd auto parts store of the trip (my 5th for the day) to pick up the bolts. It just so happens that we are now on the perfect heading for picking up fries at Five Guys and getting gas at the cheaper station. Yay! We do all that and get home in time to see the car bathed in total darkness. Brakes will have to be finished tomorrow I guess. I had started my “quick” errands at noon today, and am finally home by 7pm… So much for doing anything else.
This continued trouble-shooting with car repairs has my brain turned to mush. While it was a fun challenge at the start, I kinda just want to pull all my hair out at this point. I would hand it off to someone else to finish if I knew of any such person. Alas, I have no cash for a professional, and know no one in the area that could finish the job. It lands all back on me, mom & L. Fun. (not). HOPEFULLY there will be no more snags in the process and mom’s car will once again be driveable by tomorrow afternoon… I’m really hoping.
I have had plenty to help me distract though. I have not yet once thought about the things De has wanted me to tackle this week (oops!), and my defenses remain in place. I’m not really interested in having the conversation with L about my fears. It all leaves me wondering why I am in therapy at the moment. I think I am trying to run away from it all. It’s scary stuff that I do not want to face, but know I haveto face. Maybe this week can be spent talking to De about some of the fears. While I don’t necessarily have to talk to L about it, I could set up my session to focus on that and get somewhere with De on it. I don’t want to give in to the fear that has had me give up every time so far. It has always ended in disaster in the long run. I want to finally push through my defenses and actually make progress with it all. I don’t want to let this trip me up again… Maybe if I can finally get the brakes done tomorrow, I will have some brain power left to do some meaningful (expressive) art. It’s not that the rest of my art is not meaningful, it’s just that lately it’s all been coloring or scribbling or meaningless doodles. I want to be able to get some of this trapped stuff out at least through my creative side. I hate that it’s all trapped in the sponge of my brain… It’s only going to grow moldy there until it gets too big for itself and spills out again. Most of the “spillage” happens in violent and (physically & emotionally) traumatizing ways. We all deserve better than that…
till the next water-logged-sponge blog, hope you all have a great night and a wonderful day!
I was organizing our art stuff and started playing the music on my phone in shuffle. I hit Miranda Lambert’s “Over You” and it has gotten stuck on infinite repeat. There are just some songs that are worth the incessant playing. I’m not 100% sure what I like about it. I think it’s a combination of the lyrics and the way she sings parts of it. There’s a desperation and… “something” in her voice at times that just triggers something in my brain. It latches on and holds it.
The last few days have been ok. I don’t think I wrote much recently, but that may be because a lot of effort is being exerted on visual expression. I wish I was better at it, but I need to practice again to get back to my drawing level from several years ago. It’s definitely something you lose if you don’t use… I’m also playing a lot with mediums I’ve never worked with (or did so only a very few times). I really want to work more with water colors. They have a feel to them that other paints can’t quite achieve. I just seriously need more practice. I would like to take a class, but we don’t really have the extra cash. I could try learning on my own through videos, but there’s something about being able to ask questions that makes it work better for me. One day…
In the mean time, I will be fooling around with other random stuff. There’s a lot I want to be able to put on paper, but I’m not quite sure how. I guess it will take a lot of trial and error.
Random “weird” thought of the moment: I was getting gas and checking a stack of lottery tickets from the last few weeks. The guy asked if I had felt lucky. I responded with “No, life hates me…” The woman at the next register said that I was still alive and breathing, so life must not hate me that much. My automatic response was “Exactly! Life hates me.” I didn’t realize what I had said until I saw the look on his face (combination of pity and disgust I think). It wasn’t even like I have been depressed all that much lately. I think all those years of living in the dark makes dark things a habit. I’m not suicidal right now. I have no desire to die right now. I might even go so far as to say I have been “happy” lately (ok, maybe that’s more of just “disconnected and slightly hypo-manic” but since I don’t really have bipolar, I will just call it happy and disconnected). The words just tumbled out of my mouth without me realizing. I said them laughingly and with a smile on my face that had been there when I walked into the store… It’s weird how “habits” can carry through even the good times.
So, I had therapy today. It started out Ok. I took my box project in and we talked about it. It was a perfect segway for her topic, so it worked out. Only part way through, my mind went blank. I couldn’t remember what the elements of the box meant. I could not give her any specifics or tell her even the ball-park of what they represented. We then moved on to her topic: tell her what some of that stuff is that I never manage to talk about. My brain panicked further and I suddenly couldn’t think about anything at all. We were in the art room, and she asked if I could draw it out. I sat staring at the paper. She nailed my emotion when she called it “freaking out.” So we changed the assignment to what it felt like in the moment, and what would be needed to feel safe enough to talk about that stuff. That was also difficult, but we talked through it. I managed to start drawing stuff. Part-way through the drawing, I paused. She took that time to wrap up. I felt lost and totally vulnerable, as we had not talked about the rest of the stuff that came up. I didn’t have the courage to bring up what came popping into my head, and time was up. I left feeling really vulnerable and small. I sat in the parking lot journaling for an hour… I toyed with going back in, or calling her for support (or at least have help putting some of the vulnerability away). I ended up going home without asking for more support, but agonized over all of it the whole rest of the day. I wrote some stuff to De, and more came out than I intended. It actually made things a bit easier, as I think that was the stuff struggling to surface in session today. I left her a message tonight telling her of it, and asking if she had extra time to talk about it, or at least help me box it back up till next Friday. She won’t get it till tomorrow, but that’s ok. I really didn’t want to speak with her because I knew I would lose what it was I intended to say (she had answered the last few times I had called when I only wanted to leave a message). I’m kinda hoping she at least has time to talk a bit over the phone tomorrow so I don’t completely lose my connection to what came up today. I dunno. We will see.
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. While I experienced some of that living up north, I see more of it down here. 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!” 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). 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. I’m pretty sure they do this on purpose to keep people reaching for the pills). 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. 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). 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). Access to books, art supplies, music, and supportive others is severely limited. Staff are short-tempered because they are burnt out and working with limited resources… So yeah, they medicate people to shut them up. It’s easier to deal with a unit full of drooling, asleep patients than it is to try to provide even brief therapy. 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. We need less focus on lining pharmaceutical companies’ pockets with cash. We need to listen to people. We need to hear their stories and help them work through whatever it is that is causing this pain. Meds can be used primarily as short-term interventions, but ultimately leave it up to the patient to decide. I hate when a provider asks “Do you think the benefits out-weigh the side-effects?” because they never want to hear “no”. They only say that to make us feel like we have a choice, and are choosing to feel better by taking meds. The truth is, most of the side-effects are not less hazardous or annoying even when weighed against the “benefits.” Is feeling numb or drugged or insatiably hungry all the time really better than feeling waves of incredible depression? To this day, I maintain that I have more control over myself and my impulses without medication. The years since coming off them have proven that. I no longer move to OD or attempt before I ask for more support. 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). 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. I get irritable and lash out without a thought to the consequences of my actions. A few days after having taken my pill, I find I blow up without provocation. 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. Doctors will say many of the meds leave your system in a few days after stopping. The truth for me is that they affect me much longer. Trazodone, when used for sleep, is supposed to wear off within a day (according to numerous psychiatrists and a few of my therapists). It takes my body up to a week to get rid of the effects of having taken it only once. The longer I take it, the longer the effects last in my system. 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. 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. In FL, you can be Baker Acted for simply “appearing to have a mental health problem”. 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. Many times, they will medicate first, and make the decisions later. If you refuse meds, you are considered “resistant to treatment” or “non-compliant” and can be deemed “problematic”. Those labels will then increase your chances of being held longer. 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.” 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. 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). I was also threatened with being forced into ECT treatment after I refused to undergo the procedure voluntarily. 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. 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). There were times during his tirades that made me wonder about his own sanity. 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). It made me wonder if there was any evidence at all to back his claims. I asked my family to look it up for me, and then I continued my search once out of the hospital. I have yet to find any articles (peer-reviewed case studies or scientific research) proving that he was correct. 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. 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. Money talks, and no insurance company is willing to pay for novel treatments. There are very few funding sources for research into any new treatments, and large-scale studies need funding. Students and researchers need to live after all. They need to support themselves, their families, and their work. 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. 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). 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. Ideally, I would want a safe place to intensively work through all the crap in my head. I want that safe place to allow me to utilize my known positive coping skills, but also help me develop new ones. 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. I want to be able to do that daily, or even several times a day. 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. I want to be able to have someone gently guide me back to dealing with things after a break. 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. I want access to music and my social network. I want access to my animals. I want to be able to get out into nature (on my own or with someone else, depending on the situation). I want to be allowed to cry, and learn that I can safely do that in front of another person. 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. 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. There are places out there that offer much of this, but don’t accept insurance or payment plans. That limits their treatment to the independently wealthy… and even then they limit what you can listen to, read, watch, or get support with… If you happen to disagree with a “core” part of their philosophy, you might as well not show. 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. No music outside of meditation chants, no reading if it wasn’t directly related to recovery and treatment, and no TV or movies. I’m a big proponent of diving head-on into your recovery, but every now and then your brain needs a break. Even if I end up triggered or craving, it helps in the long run. After all, I want to know how to handle those triggers once I leave the program. 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. Everyone is different. 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.
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?
Our session with J was rough, as expected, but in a different way. I came away feeling angry and invalidated. I think I need to tell her to let up on the grilling about whether or not I feel like I am getting anywhere in individual therapy. It’s a process… Trust is a process. It takes time. We’ve been seeing J for several months, but I have only been with De since mid-August. She also said to call the IOP back and ask them for their reasoning behind not letting me back (after all, I did not act on my thoughts/urges, but I sought out help). She thinks that the rule is stupid. IOP is supposed to be for the added support, and supposed to be there as a step-down from an inpatient stay. I was up-front with them about the suicidal thinking when I did my intake. They knew that was an issue. I did not make a move to act on the feelings, but I’m suddenly too much of a risk for having to have gone inpatient… J says she would go to bat for me about it with them, but she’s guessing it would be better coming from my individual T instead. I told her I wasn’t sure I wanted to bother… I don’t like having to beg for help and having to convince someone to provide services. Yeah, they are the only local place that takes my insurance, but… I dunno. I’ll see what De thinks. I Just don’t get why I should have to fight for something 1)when I feel like crap and have no motivation, and 2)that I don’t feel worthy of.
J also said that L & I needed to be more direct and say things in the moment more often. I disagree. I think that leads to misunderstandings, needless fights, and a lot of hurt feelings. So F-you J! Grrr!!! I’m kinda glad we don’t have her next week…
I see De tomorrow. Hope it goes well. I know my walls are up out of fear. I don’t want to be referred out, but I have a feeling I will be (though that just may be the fear talking). I’m trying not to get my hopes up, or to want to be too open. I had mentioned that to J earlier, and that’s when she launched into her lecture on therapy being what you make of it.
Anyway, came home today and tried my hand at sculpture again. I haven’t done it in YEARS, so it came out pretty crappy. Also, the Original Sculpey is super-soft and sticky, which makes it harder to work with (at least at this temp). My piece ended up flopping over a bit, and it took forever to cure (tho I’m pretty sure somewhere the directions say not to do it in the toaster over, but I didn’t want to have to unpack the big oven for a few small pieces). I left the sculpture really rough in hopes of being able to add more detail with the Dremel tomorrow. I have never carved anything. It will definitely be an adventure. I took some pics of it tonight just in case I screw it up badly tomorrow. I’ll only post it when it’s done though (or if I mess it up really badly). There’s just something about some works that you can’t them show off before they are completed…
both sides of the wall 