I don’t have words to effectively communicate what this is…

Been really out of sorts lately. Can’t totally pinpoint what the exact precipitating event was, but maybe it’s just everything from the last several weeks… There have been so many triggers and stressors (L’s mom has been really sick, and recently diagnosed with congestive heart failure; I didn’t get to visit my own mom much in the two weeks she was up because I cought a cold; stuff’s just been seeping back lately anyway; one of the ladies in the trauma group I attend is really struggling, and her struggle really hits home… It’s something I’ve been through over the years; I actually, out loud, explained to my mom why I think having a service dog would be beneficial; I’ve started to look more intensely for a suitable sd candidate…

The triggered feeling had me craving a way to express itself, or feel more pointedly whatever this feeling is, so I ended up watching Unbelievable on Netflix… Watched the whole 8 or 9 episodes last night, so I didn’t sleep well yet again (between being sick for 2 weeks with this cold, and bring concerned about L’s mom, and just scheduling, I don’t think I’ve had more than 2 hours sleep in a row for about 3 weeks now)… I really related to Marie’s character; not so much the rape and police reporting, but the experiences of the flashbacks, of saying whatever just to appease the one with the power, of trying to explain things, but getting confused and flustered, so shutting down instead of communicating, of having huge walls around myself, of being inadvertantly hurt by parental figured who mean well, but can’t see past their own shit… There’s so much of her character that hits home that I don’t even have words for…

I feel like I’m just shuffling in circles and bumping into myself today. This past week has triggered old stuff, but it’s still so far away. I feel it, but I don’t quite know what it is. It’s old, but… I dunno. It’s still walled off.

I really wish I could talk to Dr C about it… Monday feels so far away.

It’s kinda what Marie’s character felt, but it’s much older; I was much younger… Or maybe not? Maybe I was a teenager when I started putting those lessons together like that? They’re kid lessons tough; older than SJ-old lessons… How old was SJ again?

I kinda want to at least reach out to L about it, but I wouldn’t know where to start, or what to say… This is all stuff I stumble over about voicing. I don’t have words for it really. There’s not really a language for it… I kinda wish I could just pull all the clips of Marie’s character from that series, and take it in to Dr C. Maybe at least I could point to the parts that really hit home, maybe… I don’t know what…

I hate feeling so lost and floaty and trapped inside the feeling. Grounding doesn’t really help right now. As soon as I turn my attention from the act of grounding, I’m floating again.

I don’t even know what I’m floating in! It’s this fog soup of the past or something…

L offered to go to Dr C with me one day so we could try to talk about this. She had mentioned just now while taking the dogs out, feeling like she wished she could help, but she didn’t know how. I admitted to her that I wished I could talk to her, only I don’t know how. I don’t know what to say, or how to explain this. I don’t know how to put words to whatever this really old thing is… I don’t think I’d know how with Dr C either… I dunno… I… I dunno. I wish I had words or expressions. I wish I could point to a feeling, or have her feel a bit of what this is just to be able to express it, but… That kind of communication doesn’t exist. Even if I had her watch Unbelievable, and I pointed to the moments I relate to, she wouldn’t know how it relates… That’s the trouble with feelings that have no words, or thoughts that only have feelings… If I can’t grasp on to it, if I can’t find a way to describe it or talk about it, then how the hell can I communicate it? I could art journal about it, but would she understand it the way I do? Even I don’t think I understand it the same way twice, so how the hell do you effectively communicate that?

I want to get lost in music and cuddle Beary… I wish I could cuddle the dogs, but they’re not huge fans of that… I miss having cuddly dogs… I really want a huge, cuddly dog to hide with right now… It feels safe… Floppy was safe like that when I was a kid. I really miss her…

Been a while

Sorry for being mia. Time gets away from me easily.

This past week or two (not totally sure on the duration) have been a struggle. I’m triggered on so many fronts, but at the same time, I wouldn’t be able to tell you what they are… I know some is related to the anniversary of my last major self-harming incident 8 years ago; Some is related to G being in the state; some is probably related to my monthly hormone cycle.

I’ve refrained from taking pain meds this past week in an effort to ground into my current body. If I’m feeling and noticing the immediate pain in my arms & legs, I’m not lost in the flashbacks… At least, that’s the theory I’m going by. It’s not really panning out that way, but whatever. I’m not cutting, so, progress maintained.

The flashbacks are a mix of that time frame when I was cutting uncontrollably, and the more distant past of abuse. There’s other stuff I know I talked to Dr C about, but I can’t remember what that was just now.

I’m super dissociative, stirred-up, and generally lost. I finally was able to be a hair more open with L about it (she asked if i was ok because I’ve been listening to a lot of music these last few days; if my phone’s not playing out loud, i have headphones in. I generally only do this when struggling). I was able to acknowledge it when she asked, but I’m having trouble qualifying it… It’s a bit easier when I write, but even that’s a struggle. My head has been very foggy and fragmented lately. I forget what I’m doing a few seconds into starting it. Art has been somewhat helpful for concentration. Been making little things to sell at an upcoming holiday craft fair. We have a 2.5 month lead-time, so hopefully inventory will be good for it.

Anyway… Yeah. Trigger-y & flashback-y of late. Trying to find balance. Struggling to express stuff, even in therapy. Lots of brain farts…

Super exhausted all of a sudden, so gonna sign off and nap for a bit before L comes home on her break. Gotta remember to wish the peanut happy birthday today while L is home… Someone remind me about that?

K, nap time.

Anxiety is high again

… And it’s from the weirdest trigger.

A local grocery store chain”s workers are on strike. It’s day 10 or 11 now. I have no direct investment in the outcome of the strike. People I know do, but I do not. L worked there briefly earlier this year, but left since the work was too much for her (physically, and with the added hours on top of her other 2 jobs)…

For some reason, the strike, specifically the support of the workers as we drive by, and even just seeing the striking workers, skyrockets my anxiety. I can’t talk about it with people. I can’t drive by where they are (I’ve started switching my driving routes to completely avoid the plazas). I can’t hear about it…

I become terrified. My chest starts to hurt, my mind races, and I panic that I’m going to get in really big trouble. It takes me a really long time to calm down once the panic starts, and it takes very little time to trigger the full panic.

I have no idea why it causes this. Over a week of intense anxiety, and all I’ve come up with is that I’m afraid of getting in deep, deep trouble…

One of the ladies in my group is personally effected by it. This past week, we spent a good 20-30 minutes on it in group. It was all I could do to not bolt from the room. I didn’t feel I had any right asking them to stop because her daily life is effected by it, and I’m only made anxious by the concept of it…

I guess it was kinda good that I let the anxiety build more (though I did start to mentally check out), because I started to feel the rumblings of flashbacks trying to break through. It made me want to cut my arms and legs, and cry, and hide… The flashbacks never came though, so I’m still stumped. At least I know there’s something specific there. I have no idea what, but it’s something rather than the seeming nothing it had been prior to group.

I started to text Dr C. about it, but she stopped responding. I’m guessing she got busy and distracted with other things… She didn’t directly say that we will talk about it another time, or tell me to stop texting, but she wasn’t engaging in the exchange, so… Not gonna bother her outside of session with it. It’s time I started learning to leave her alone outside of the office anyway. She’s getting older, and closer to retirement. I’m gonna have to find another therapist at some point, and I doubt they will tolerate between session contact… Not looking forward to having to find someone again. It’s been so difficult to find a good therapist who I can work with… Maybe I just won’t need one by the time she fully retires…

Here’s hoping.

more stupid triggers

I had a neoropsych assessment last week in hopes that it help point us in a direction for this weird physical stuff I’m experiencing.

During the assessment, the psychologist was flipping pages in a booklet, showing me pictures of stuff I needed to try to remember. At one point, I stated losing track of what the pictures were, and started focusing on her hand turning the pages, and what the paper sounded like. It wasn’t really a conscious thing, just my attention switching. The sound of the pages turning became the loudest thing in my head, and I couldn’t see anything but her hand. It only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough to trigger something. I started feeling body stuff in the middle of this test that shouldn’t be triggering or disturbing… She caught on that something was up, and I told her that her turning the pages were triggering for some reason I couldn’t pinpoint (and still really can’t). She continued with the testing, but let me turn the pages from then on.

It’s seriously the stupidest little things that hit me out of nowhere… wtf??

Some days I want to scream at the memories to leave me alone and let me continue on with my life.

Oh, so the preliminary results (mostly just from her knowing the general average results, without any real scoring yet) have my verbal memory functioning at “seriously impaired”. She suggested that it’s likely due to the medical marijuana, but since it’s the only real thing that helps the ptsd, to keep taking it. Overall, the verbal memory impairment is less problematic than the impairment from the symptoms it treats… this might be the one time I agree with the phrase “the benefits outweigh the side effects”.

More on feeling defective…

Despite all my labwork that insists I’m ridiculously normal, my brain certainly doesn’t feel it.

I went to physical therapy today because I tweaked my back a few weeks ago, and my range of motion since then has sucked. Specifically, I have trouble lifting my left leg over the dog gate. I go over with my right, and kinda just drag my left over after me…

Anyway, I remembered why it was I failed so miserably at pt last round; it sparks intrusive memories I’d rather not have.

I’m supposed to go back on Monday, but I think I will cancel.

Even if it doesn’t trigger full-on flashbacks, it does trigger anxiety and dissociation. The longer the pt goes on, the worse it all gets, and soon I can’t remember what we did, and what I’m supposed to do between sessions. It’s a waste of time and resources that I know could be used by others (they book 2 weeks out on a good week)…

So, yeah. I’m going to cancel. I’ll do the exercises she gave me today, then try to remember to start planking to help build my core strength up again.

And maybe I’ll mention it to Dr C, and we can work more on the body stuff so maybe if I ever need pt again for my back I’ll be able to follow through…

Rough day…

I hate being so defective.

Was at a urologist today for an initial appointment. Didn’t think to ask them if there would be any uncomfortable exams. 15 minutes in, the doctor sprung the concept of a pelvic exam on me. I kinda started to panic, but tried to talk myself down.

She’s nice. She seems nice. Dr F recommended her, so she trusts her, so I can trust her. L is here with me. It’s all good. No worries. Dr F trusts her, so she’s safe…

That worked for about as long as it took me to think the words one time. By the second round, I was already drifting away. I know I spoke to L about my anxiety, but I can’t remember what was said.

By the time the doctor came back in, I was barely breathing and about to jump out of my skin. I managed to mutter someing about panic rising, and as she looked at me to ask if anything in my past would make this more difficult, I could only nod. Tears were welling up in my eyes. I was flying away hard and fast in my head.

I’m not really sure what she said next; everything was happening miles away. All I could do was keep biting my lip (I actually managed to accidentally bite off a bit of it)…

I think she said something about changing the treatment plan, but I have no idea what she said it would be. I will have to ask L later…

I hate being so defective. I want to be a normal human who can go to a new doctor and get through the visit without any major triggers…

After the appointment, L reminded me it was bingo night. She asked if I wanted to go. My first instinct was to stay home and hide. Then I figured distracting would probably be better…

We went to bingo. I took some meds to help me calm and ground a bit more. I’m so thankful I did! Someone who ended up sitting next to us sounded and acted so much like bitch most of the night. Had I not calmed myself down, I would have been more of a triggered mess…

Anxiety and stress in my body

I’ve had an “off” cardiac history for most of the time I can remember. I’ve seen cardiologists, worn monitors for varying times, but nothing ever gets recorded or noticed as problematic when they are actuality searching for things.

When I was hospitalized, tech’s were constantly either retaking my vitals, or sending a nurse in to check it.

My average resting heart rate runs about 95bpm (i believe the “normal” for women my age is somewhere significantly lower than that).

No one’s been able to give me a solid reason, though the more research i do into ptsd and trauma, the more i realize it’s likely that.

Anyway, this week’s average had been in the 120’s. My doctor noted it when i went in for having sent my back into spasms on Sunday, but quickly dismissed it a a result of the coffee i was finishing… i should have mentioned to her the “poprocks” in my chest several times this past week, but I’m no good at bringing up something other than what she’s focused on in the moment… it kinda feels like someone lit a sparkler or trick candle inside my chest. It lasts for a few minutes, then fades. It comes more frequently as my stress levels go up. It’s not bad though, since it normally feels like a flopping fish…

Anyway, no doctor is really sure what to do with it all. I’m finally figuring out it is highly correlated with my stress and anxiety levels. This week, not only was i pretty triggered, but i injured my back, and i was fighting off something that drained all my energy (though that energy drain seems to correlate much higher with my tachycardia, just not sure if one causes the other, or both are responses to something else)… it’s not really surprising my pulse has been really high all week (if it ever sustains at about 250bpm for more than a few minutes, I’ll take something).

Today’s therapy was highly emotionally taxing, as were the earlier flashbacks…

(I clearly had something else in mind to write, but i was interrupted, and now have long forgotten what it would be).

Flashbacks from unlikely triggers…

Financially, things have been rough with L’s medical leave. Friends of ours’ very generously set up a donation campaign. It’s been doing really well. We are getting closer and closer to the goal set (enough to cover 1 month’s rent, car payment, phone bill, gas for the car, and a few other things that wouldn’t be covered by my money).  It’s really awesome, and I’m really grateful; we both are. We are blown away by the generosity of not only friends & family, but also compete strangers. 

On the flip side of that, it’s been triggering. I had to turn off the notifications for new donations… I had a slight meltdown earlier today because all I could think was that I  would owe so many people. It wasn’t after it subsided that I realized it was a flashback… I knew the obvious body memories were flashbacks, but I didn’t really connect the emotion or line-of-thinking to it. 

Dr C happened to have some availability to text between appointments.  She was patient enough to listen to my panicked rambles and try to help me calm down. L probably would have done the same if I had given her the opportunity, but I didn’t know how to let her in… maybe if I were in a different headspace, I could have explained it all to her, but in the moment, I didn’t know what to say… she tolerated my bottled panic, and accepted me being useless for most of the day… I dunno why she puts up with me, but I’m grateful. 

Anyway, so yeah. Getting donations seems to be a trigger. Having to ask for help is a trigger… I feel worthless and like a fraud. I mean, if I were a real, functioning adult, I would be able to at least work more to help us out when L has legit reasons not to be at work… my rational brain knows these donations don’t come with strings attached, but holy shit, is my inner kid ever terrified… 😓

Triggered

I want to rip my insides out. The body memories are back… 

Between the new group, added work days, recent attempts at contact from my dad’s sister, and other stressor, I’m feeling really triggered lately. 

I told Dr C. I also voiced that I was afraid she might tell me group was not a good idea, since it was contributing to the triggering. She didn’t say I’d have to leave though, so that’s good. I hope she doesn’t change her mind. Yeah, group is triggering, but it’s also nice to know some other people who can relate. I’ve never sat in a room with other people who understood (and voiced their understanding) my symptoms. They understand what it’s like to dissociate, to jump at triggers, to feel things in their bodies that were over decades ago… there’s a sad relief in knowing I’m not alone. 

It seems universal… or maybe it’s just coincidence

Is there a Narcissistic Asshole Handbook out there, or is it just coincidence that they sound alike? 

The Asshole-Elect who will be running this country in a few short days sounds so much like my dad, down to the inflection in his voice when he speaks. Some of the phrases and the way he counters things are verbatim what G used to say… 

I’ve been staying away from the news and regular television because it’s so triggering… I would say it’s just the clips of him they chose to play, but it’s been him as a whole even before he ran for president. The moment he speaks, I’m flooded with memories of G, the fights he used to pick, his screaming and berating of the other adults in the house. I try to ground myself, but it’s difficult, especially if clips continue to play on TV. 

I feel like I’m desperately trying to wall myself off. If I can live in a little bubble, then maybe I can protect myself from any news of the asshole in charge, and with that, from memories of growing up. 

It’s going to be a really long 4 years. Maybe I need to ask Dr C to work on this (though it’s difficult to pull up on demand unless I’m hearing clips of the orange man… then my insides turn to mush and stone at the same time. It feels like I can’t breathe, but outwardly I appear calm and collected… AG, the APRN, had asked how I kept functioning with the level of distress I reported on the depression scale she gave me: years of having to appear fine on the outside have made it a mask I have trouble dropping until it’s too late)…

Anyway. Yeah… I guess there’s a handbook out there, or G idolized this ass (which is entirely possible). 

😔

More stupid triggers

Met with the aprn today. I knew she’d be intense, but I wasn’t expecting the plethora of triggers that would come my way. 

Aside of her abrupt and incredibly direct manner, she started to talk more about ect after I told her I was strongly against it. I started to run away inside myself, and was about to walk out when I stepped back and was able to ask her to stop talking about it. After she recovered from the interruption, she apologized and moved on. 

I had trouble grounding again, but managed by the time the hour was up. I stood to leave. She offered a handshake though I was already turned towards the door and on my way out. I turned to shake her hand more out of obligation than anything. I was expecting a quick one, but she held on to my hand with both of hers, continuing to shake even as I tried to pull mine away twice. She’s not a big woman, but she has quite a grip. My panic was rising when she finally let go.  I had group right afterwards though. I was able to feel safer in Dr C’s presence for the duration. 

I stayed distracted enough during group, but as soon as I left, the sensation of my hand being held grew louder. The memory of the aprn quickly got overlaid with a sense of bitch, and my whole body stated to feel like it was crawling. I wanted rip my skin off and my insides out… 

I really want to cancel the next appointment with her. I’m not sure the potential benefits of getting this generic test done are worth the intense triggers… correction; I know they are not. I just don’t have the courage to call her (or even text) to cancel the appointment. Maybe next week I’ll find the courage  (or I’ll suck up the no-show fee and just skip the appointment)…

I wish I could have communicated during the appointment that my impulsiveness only happens when I take psych meds. The whole mess of hospitalizations happened mainly while I was on meds (save the two instances after I moved back home). 

I also didn’t verbalize that my ptsd kicked up big-time after that move, and that, while home, the flashbacks were 24/7 and incredibly intense. They aren’t as bad up here, nor as pervasive, though they do happen…

I’m not sure I want to keep triggering them by continuing to see this aprn. I’m sure she’s probably a nice person, and good at her job, but… when I try to remember anything about the appointment, she’s replaced by bitch and the things bitch did. 

I’m really not interested in trying psychotropic meds again (even ones I’ve not tried… all three of them). 

I’ve been feeling pukey and exhausted since the appointment. I really wanted to sleep, even on the drive home. I got home ok, then back out to pick L up at work, but fell asleep while waiting the 7 minutes for her to get out. I slept about 2 hours. I’m not as tired now, but still feel gross. I’m thinking it’s related to the triggering. 

She had asked what was behind the ever-present suicidality. All I could think to say was that I’m so tired… I wish I knew how to qualify what it’s like to struggle through every day. The best I can do is keep journaling the days, but even that doesn’t do it justice… how do you explain carrying a hell no one else can truly understand (nor do you ever wish them to)…

When anger bubbles

I’m finding that I’m really hating myself in a bunch of situations. I’m finding rage bubbles up, or I’m losing my temper, or in letting other people’s emotions influence my own. I’m finding I mirror the attitudes of those I’m around, and a lot of times its crappy attitudes. 

Today, it struck me again how much I dislike myself when I work with a particular colleague. She’s often in a bad mood and expressing it without much restraint. I’m noticing when I work with her, I’m more intolerant and more short-tempered than I’d like. I yell more easily, get frustrated more easily, and become unintentionally rough when correcting the dogs… I didn’t always used to be that way, but it’s happening more now. It’s certainly not her fault,  as I’ve noticed I’ve had times of bubbling rage, but it’s more easily triggered around her…

I need to be more on top of this. I need to be more aware, and return to my center faster when the anger is triggered. I need to be better at the self-control around my anger. I hate to turn into my dad…

More anxiety

My chest is still tight. 

Woke up today… triggered? It’s not exactly the right word for it, because triggered implies more intensity. I was “on”, activated. I started journaling about the story playing out in my head. When I went back to it later to proof read it, it felt hollow and substance-less. I thought I had put more detail, but I guess most of it only played out in my head only. 

The story I woke into left me feeling triggered and on edge. I really wanted to cut. I was aware of the intensity of the desire for the release and balance that comes from it. I was also aware that I needed to try to avoid it… I decided to take a shower.  My usual showers last about 30 minutes on a good day, without that loop that has me feeling unable to get clean… Anyway, today’s shower took almost an hour and a half. I can’t recall any reason it would have. For some reason, I lost an hour in there. And when I was done, I no longer needed to cut. I know I didn’t (I wasn’t bleeding at all), but the desire was abated and my body was a bit sore… 

The loss in time caused me to run late for therapy…

I talked to Dr C about it a bit. She then mentioned something related to family that I had apparently told her previously. I don’t recall telling her anything like that, and I’m not sure I would have necessarily described things in that way, but I believe her when she says it’s something I’ve said to her… that got us onto the topic of dissociation and memory gaps. I expressed my frustration at being faced with more recent episodes of amnesia. I understand the function of it for traumatic events, but this random trigger that somehow connects to the trauma thus leading to dissociation frustrates me. I thought I had gotten to a point where I didn’t completely lose time anymore, but apparently I’m not. I still forget spans of time. Today it happened twice totaling over two hours. The second time happened while shopping after therapy. I thought I had been shopping for maybe an hour, but I had been there for 2.5 hours. Nothing notable happened, but it’s occurrence confuses me. Maybe it was left-over triggering from either the “memories” this morning, or my session with Dr C…

With this sudden increase in noticed loss of time, Dr C suggested I leave pen and paper around in hopes I may journal while checked out. She suggested journaling on my phone may be too complicated in a dissociated state. I dunno. It’s comfortable enough a medium for me… I’ve checked out while trying to journal in my art journal before and ended up just sitting frozen in that position while I was “out”. I’m not sure leaving a pen and paper around would do much. I think i’m more likely to journal on my phone. I know I’ve done that in the past while I was dissociated. Sadly, the app I had used at the time glitched and I lost most of that journaling. I do recall at one point before the app failed that I read several entries I had no memory of writing. Since I’ve started blogging, I’ve found a few entries I don’t recall at all, along with several I’m aware I wrote but cannot feel a connection to. I also know I’ve written quite a bit while dissociated in my private journal blog… none of it looks like anything vastly different than what I remember writing except for the entries that detail the flashbacks and memories; those I constantly have to reread in order to know what they contain. I have the general gist that they describe details, but I wouldn’t be able to recite most of it without reading it. It feels like someone else’s story…

Anyway, I think I lost my point for this post. I feel a bit better though. The anxiety isn’t as crushing after writing for a bit. I don’t necessarily feel grounded, but my chest isn’t tight and twitchy. I still want to cut, but I think I can get myself to bed without giving in. I just hope I can actually sleep tonight. I have work tomorrow. It’ll likely be a 10-hour day again. They are so exhausting, even though they “only” involve camp…

Oh, another stressor; my disability is being reviewed. I think I filled out the form correctly, but I was partially dissociated while doing it. I’m a bit worried I might lose my benefits. I felt weird getting it in the first place, though the providers I worked with seemed to think it was appropriate. I know I don’t have the energy to look for (and accomplish) full-time work. I currently don’t have the emotional head space to succeed at it even if I tried. I feel fake though. I should be able to suck it up and plow through all this. I should be able to be productive in society. I shouldn’t be so lazy and unmotivated… I feel like i’m wasting resources, but Dr C says it’s not a waste. She says having needs and taking time isn’t wasteful… I dunno. I think being so needy is wasteful and a pain in the ass, but she disagrees…

There’s that anxiety again. Guess I should sign off before I send myself into a tizzy over something which I have no control…

Sorry this post is so long-winded. I hope it makes sense and that autocorrect didn’t butcher it too badly because I have no energy to proof read just now…

Intrusive thoughts and insights

I find myself thinking about the past a lot, even when I’m trying to distract. It’s seeping through both my conscious and unconscious thoughts. I try to distract from it only to find it making an appearance unintentionally…

I think that was what triggered my sudden and “baseless” anger that later faded to resignation and defeat. I wasn’t really sure where it came from, or why it would quickly dissolve into sadness. I think I put it together finally; I had been absent-mindedly messing with watercolors this afternoon. I was trying to rekindle the relief I had found in session by painting “blood”, then later painting the feeling of comfort cutting would bring. Without meaning to, the pattern the watercolor took on resembled an image representative of the images/sensations I struggle with. I noted the resemblance, them moved on to another page to experiment with more watercolor. 

I guess the first image stirred stuff up because in less than 30 minutes, I was feeling rage bubble up. I snapped at L about something stupid, and wanted to isolate. The rage fizzled to resignation and depression shortly after… I wasn’t able to identify a potential trigger though till after returning home and contemplating the mess I made with the watercolors. I realized seeing the first piece that reminds me so much of trauma bubbled the anger again… and shame. I’m ashamed that the art I was trying to use to satisfy the desire to cut turned into a trigger. I’m ashamed at what I see in the splotches. I’m ashamed of the conflicting emotions it brings up.  I’m feeling a resigned sense of acceptance about these “memories” being accurate… and there’s grief there too: grief over losing the life I had thought I lived. I guess Dr C was right; this depression is at least in part fueled by grief. 

triggers…

I went with a friend to a retreat/yoga thing today. It was described as more buddhist/spiritual. That kind of stuff I can handle… Only it was in a catholic retreat center, complete with religious symbols all over the place. Luckily, my friend is atheist, so she was as uninterested in the religious aspect as I was (only, I was really triggered, not just uninterested).

I did my best to ground from all the flashbacks, but it was really difficult. My friend was frustrated that I refused to do the meditations. She was convinced it would help my head. I didn’t know how to tell her that being mindful and present in my body brings up intense flashbacks to csa. It was all I could do to distract from them before they came on full-force just by walking into the retreat center. She told me I should have at least tried the breathing… only she doesn’t know that focusing on my breath was something I did to get the abuse over with faster (he would wait till he thought I was asleep to start things).

Even the yoga was problematic. I’m used to doing more standing poses, but these almost all involved laying on the floor… I did maybe 3 of the poses because all the others sent me right into flashbacks.

I feel like such a loser. There are all these things that are supposed to help, but they only make things worse for me. Aside of all the csa stuff coming up, I got flashbacks to the times I was hospitalized… the stupid hallways looked so much like the hospitals…

I know Dr C is more understanding when I tell her things like this trigger me. I get that they make sense in terms of my history. It’s just so difficult to explain to everyone else. I’m not just being stubborn and resistant. It doesn’t feel safe, and it sends me into a tailspin… As is, all I want to do at the moment is self-harm and dissociate. I don’t like feeling the things in my body. I don’t like “remembering” this stuff that should never have happened… and I really don’t like being seen as difficult and resistant.

I should have excused myself and sat outside while my friend and her mom did all the meditations and talks. I could have avoided all this extra triggering. I didn’t want to disappoint my friend though.

After-effects of being triggered?

I’m not sure exactly what’s going on; if it’s an effect of the emotional upheaval from the emdr, something to do with my lack of sleep & lack of eating much the past few days, or if I just never paid attention to the aftermath of being triggered, but my whole body is jittery. 

I can’t seem to level my anxiety out. My heart rate feels fast, but when I measure it, it’s coming out normal for me (fast for most people, but I generally run about 100bpm)…

Am I pushing myself too hard?

The emdr stirred up a ton of stuff. It’s not settling much, just cycling through things. She called it progress, but not necessarily relief. I’m not sure how well I can handle this, though when I just unintentionally triggered myself intensley, I was able to sit through it.

I’m feeling this huge internal pressure to talk to someone other than just Dr C about what’s going on, but when I try (even anonymously or ambiguously) I trigger myself… I’m back to doubting if I can tackle trauma processing outside of an inpatient (or at least intensive out patient) setting. I guess I’m doing ok because I haven’t resorted to cutting. I’m just scared I might be pushing myself too hard without enough safety nets in place. I mostly trust Dr C, I’m just not sure I trust myself…

The fill-in therapist is nice.

Talking to Dr C’s fill-in today was helpful. I brought up my continued issue with taking responsibility for things (specifically my student loans). She gave me some tools to help ease the automatic tapes that scream at me every time I think about my inability to repay the loans… I’m not sure her suggestions helped as much as her repeating a new grounding mantra a few times (something about being an adult, away from my past, and not wanting to allow myself to continue the abuse)… her approach is different from Dr C’s a bit, but it’s helpful in the moment. Dr C is good for getting at the root of all this stuff and dealing with the past. Fill-in therapist’s approach is more cbt/reality and good for handling things in the moment (while also still accepting that I’ve lived with the abusive tapes since I was little, so it makes sense that they would have been adopted as my own)…

She’s a good fill-in therapist. I’m glad Dr C ended up finding her (she was the third choice, as choices 1 and 2 didn’t work out). I’m not sure I could work with her as a primary therapist (cbt/dbt tends to trigger failure tapes), but it was really helpful today. 

I’m still shaking from having called the student loan people, and kinda dissociated, but the tapes it usually triggers are much quieter. 

Only 2 more weeks and Dr C is back. Well, she’ll be back in the county in just under 2 weeks, and we’ll have group that week that she returns, but individual doesn’t start up again till the following week. 

I need to get in gear now and make some sample journal pages for the two things I want to demonstrate in tonight’s workshop. I think only 2 people are coming, but I still need demo pieces. 

Surprise! Another trigger…

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

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

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

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

A pattern of tolerance for the negative

A theme for the week: tolerating triggering situations for the small benefits they may bring.

It was a topic of conversation during Monday’s session. It came up during the week, it came up again today, and it’s wrapped up in the self-harm… Dr C pointed out the pattern to me Monday, and suddenly it’s weaving it’s way through everything (well, at least, I’m noticing it). It’s even a thread through my healthier coping skills: Breathe through the tuff stuff to get to the other side… as Dr C pointed out Monday, it’s what I did to get through as a kid, and it’s what I keep doing. I get that it would be good for me to change that pattern, but there’s some comfort in it. I tolerate the bad for the bits of good…

There are however, aspects of life where I don’t follow that pattern anymore. My relationship with L is a great example of that. There is no tolerating of the bad to get to the good. Sure, we have disagreements, and both of us have our share of being jerks at times, but I think we have a healthy and supportive relationship. We try to address things as they come up, and we love each other. We avoid trying to make the other feel weak, scared, or small. We build each other up. We hold the other’s self-worth when it tanks. And we genuinely care.

It certainly wasn’t the image I had for a relationship growing up. I always thought I’d marry an abusive serviceman who would beat and rape me daily… I’m not totally sure where I got that idea from, but it had always been there. I would imagine being left alone to deal with the abuse, as everyone would ignore his behavior. I would be told to be quiet and let him do whatever because his job was stressful. I would swallow the fear and just get through the day…

So yeah, some places I’ve broken that pattern, but other places it’s still very present. I tolerate triggering shows and movies because there’s some part of them I’m interested in (Game of Thrones is one of them). I focus on the good parts of it to get through the uncomfortable parts… yet when Dr C suggested I stop watching it in favor of not having to repeat the pattern, I cringed. As triggering as parts of the show may be, other parts are highly engaging.

Similarly, when hanging out with some people, I sit through conversations around triggering topics because I’m not sure how to effectively set a boundary around it one they start (and I’m triggered). I know Dr C and I talked about effective ways to politely set that boundary, but when the moment came, my mind was blank. I listened to my friend talk about her familial abuse history. It triggered flashbacks and dissociation. I felt myself slip into a more detached space. For the life of me, I could not find the words to ask her to stop. The only 2 options that came to mind for changing the topic would not have been very comfortable (for me or her). So instead, I listened to what she said from miles away, and responded when I thought I should respond. I really wanted to scream or run out of there, but I was raised to be polite and courteous. That would have been neither (though probably right on target for a trauma response)…

Anyway, so yeah. Patterns. Fun.

Hell is…

Went to a figure drawing thing at a local gallery tonight. The model was supposed to be a woman, but she was unable to make it at the last minute. One of the guys that had come to draw offered to model…

I made it through the first 30 minute pose, but just barely. I focused on the light and the dark trying to draw the model. It was the only reason I was able to do it at all…

At the end of the first pose, I packed up my stuff and left. Tears started forming in my eyes as I walked out… sometime during the first pose, I had text Dr C about it. I was looking for permission to leave. She hadn’t responded at the point that I left, but I had no faith in being able to remain “together” for the other 4 poses. I lucked out with the first one – he had his back to me and I couldn’t see too much. I wasn’t about to push my luck with the other poses.

I fought tears the whole drive home. I couldn’t get the image of the model out of my head, but it wasn’t really the model… I cried harder when the body in my mind’s eye changed…

Dr C finally responded as I was pulling off my exit from the highway… “No, you need to know that you’re free to leave any room with an exposed penis in it.” (I had asked if it was a failure to leave after the first pose)…

L asked why I was home so early (the text that I was leaving early didn’t get to her). I clarified my initial text about the model not being able to make it. She asked if I was ok, and she saw through my fake answer… I wish I could explain what happened internally, but there are no words…

I poured myself a triple glass of whiskey. It’s helped to stifle my triggered reactions and the impulse to shred myself… idgaf that it’s not the greatest coping skill in the world, but I’m not bleeding, so whatever.

train of thought crashes into a memory?

Was on the way home from a friend’s house. In the lane next to me there was a dog barking out the car window. I mentally noted how happy I was that this set of dogs doesn’t do anything like that… I thought how annoying it would be to have to drive with a dog that needed to pace back and forth between windows and bark at everything. I remembered an old dog who did not ride well in the car. She would do ok on short trips, and if the windows were open, but the long drive I took was a tough one. I remember her sounding like a squeaky door the whole way. I remembered who was with me on the drive. I remembered how annoyed he was with her, and some of the mean things he said… and then I started feeling things in my body. I had a brief flash of something specific, but it had to have been a mixed-up memory. The angle of the image I got was off… actually, it’s a near-impossible angle to get (at once laying down and sitting up)…

Can’t shake the creepy feeling since. Can’t shake the body memories.

It’s one of those times where it hit at a moderate level and has remained that way since. It’s bearable for the time being, but I hope it fades soon.

Insomnia is back

I wake up these last several weeks to the slightest noise, then I can’t get back to sleep. Tonight, one of the dogs barked once. I thought she had to go out, so I got up to take her. Turns out she was just trying to get the neighbor dog’s attention… that was an hour ago.  I have to be up again at 6 for work. I have a feeling I’m finally going to have fallen asleep again right as my alarm goes off…

A few days ago, we stated watching Game of Thrones again (from the beginning, because we were lost about the story line for the new season, and because I never really made it past season 2 episode 4. Anyway, I didn’t realize how triggering some of the scenes would be. They had made me uncomfortable the first two times I tried to get through the series, but this time they tugged at some memories… I think the memories were there itching for a reason to jump in my face again, and this was their convenient excuse. I think the combination of poor sleep, pms, stress from work/life, and little time to unwind are also playing a role. I dunno. It’s getting loud though…

Maybe tonight when I go back to bed, I can actually sleep. And if little dog doesn’t get demanding in the a.m., I might even be able to sleep in Sunday morning.

This week was long in terms of work. I’m really grateful next week goes back to the light schedule. I’m going to make a concerted effort not to pick up shifts for people next week. My boss only has me in for the usual 2 days. I need that break to recharge a bit (I need to keep remind myself of that).

Phew!

No nightmares about L dying last night.

No nightmares at all last night actually 🙂

I’m itching to play art again, but I’m at work at the moment. I did bring one of my art journals, but I’m not sure what to draw in it. I couldn’t exactly bring all my paints, and I don’t have a travel paint set put together. I could have brought the gelatos, but I didn’t think of it till after.

It’s all ok though. I’ll have time tomorrow before group to play art. Then tomorrow evening, a friend is giving a talk on paper arts at a local gallery. I was planning on dragging L. It should be fun.

Other than that, progress on the therapy front: I was able to watch what would have been a triggering scene in a TV show without falling into intrusive memories. HUGE, HUGE step for me, even though it was “just” around the domestic violence stuff. I was kinda excited that I was able to be aware of the memories but still remain engaged in the show (it was a scene from Flash about Zoom’s back-story). I kinda laughed when I noticed that I had witnessed a similar scene numerous times (minus the murder part) and marveled that I wasn’t a sociopath…

Anyway, so yeah, little victories and happy-dances all around.

Note to self: engaging in expressive art, and seeking support around the ickiness are both helpful in regaining balance when things are starting to fall apart again.

Blergh… (ok, honestly, I dunno an adequate word for this feeling/sound… also **POTENTIALLY TRIGGERING – SH, SUI**

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.

Where did I leave off?

Let’s see, what have you missed out on?

I’m still having a rough time. I still really just want to cry but can’t seem to. I’m still not sleeping all that well…

I’ve also been creatively dry lately. I participated in an art journal page supply swap, and felt like I was kicking and screaming my way through it. I did most of a page around what I received, but it still needs work.

I tried working more on a small mixed media piece that I started a while back. I had overdone the silver foil when I added it; It took over the whole painting. I tried to balance it with some steampunk-style, but now I’m feeling the focal image is completely lost. I dunno. It’s definitely something to keep working on.

Other than that, I’m creatively stalled.

Outside of art, I’m finding the repercussions of wanting to help people out are again causing more stress than happiness. Several weeks ago, I had suggested to someone I could bring something back for her from across the country because, at the time, I thought I could make that trip easier than I actually can… least week, she asked if I was still open to picking up her purchase. I said yes thinking I was doing this trip at my pace. Unfortunately, between work constraints and the preferences of others involved, the trip has been pushed up to the end of this week instead of the beginning of May. That leaves me reeling on a few levels: money is a HUGE issue for this trip. At the time I quoted the person a cost, I was expecting to have more cash at my disposal. I only quoted half the cost of the trip, but that leaves me having to pay the other half, which I don’t really think I can afford right now.
It will also be hugely emotionally draining to go back. I’m going by myself. The whole 2-day drive will be on my shoulders both ways. There’s no one to talk to, or to switch off driving with… and I’m going back to the place that had me so triggered for the last 2.5 years.

Why did I agree to this again on this time-frame?

I hate that my insane push to help out and to please people pushes me into situations I should have thought harder about. It is what I tend to do at work and in my personal life: I push myself way past my own limits until it ends up backfiring… when will I finally learn this lesson?

Oh, I had mentioned the pattern of March being difficult seemingly every year to Dr C during last session. We brainstormed a bunch of ideas, but none seemed to feel like they fit. Maybe it’s just a rough month for no real reason…

Exhausted

A lot of factors are playing into my mood, mostly the effects of insomnia and a packed schedule…

I’m starting to notice that any time I don’t wholeheartedly agree with Dr C, I feel like I need to apologize profusely and agree to think about what she’s saying in an effort to agree with her. I’m starting to become aware that this is a pattern in the entirety of my life. I worry that the person will be mad at me and I will get in trouble (especially if the person is perceived to have any power over me). With Dr C, I’m hearing echos of not only my dad, but also all the previous providers that have admonished me for not simply acquiescing to whatever suggestions they make. It’s not that Dr C has ever acted like that, but all the past experiences push in on me and I panic that I will get in trouble…

I’m also still really struggling with the effects of last Monday’s therapy session. This Monday, she went over some of it with me. I still couldn’t really connect to the experience. I feel like I wasn’t that present at all this past session. I can’t really remember much of it other than the medication conversation we had (where I disagreed  with her suggestion to try them again). I feel like I should go against my gut and try them again. Maybe this time there would be something that would work? Or maybe this time the impulses would finally become too overwhelming and I’d succeed in the self destruction. I’m not suicidal, but part of me is really tired of the constant struggle. If something happens, then something happens…

Depression is a bitch. It permeates every aspect of my life all the time. A lot of times it’s more quiet about it, but a lot of times it’s also overwhelming. Ideally, I would like to leave it behind and be able to enjoy my life without that constant shadow. The trauma work Dr C and I are doing is helping (so much of the depression is driven by the past). I’m just not sure it’s possible to leave it behind forever. I know people say the depression doesn’t stay horrible forever. I get that it moves in waves, but I wonder how many people can comprehend how utterly unbearable it is when it hits. It’s not simply a lull in life, it’s a loss of all hope and all ability to see any glimmer of true joy. I can smile. I can see happiness in tiny moments. It just hurts so much when it hits. It’s like living with horrific burns all over and knowing you have to live in excruciating pain indefinitely… it sucks, and that’s an immense understatement…

On the plus side, I don’t have much time to myself this week. Dr C suggested I not spend time alone. By coincidence, I work 4 days at the kennel, and we have plans all weekend. I’m also helping my niece with some work over the weekend. The most I’ll be alone all week is Friday when I get a day off from everything… I’m exhausted, but having expectations prevents the self-destruct urges from getting too overwhelming.

Dr C had suggested the triggering and overwhelm are because we are moving too fast in therapy. I’m not really sure how to slow down. The memories and flashbacks come whether or not we cover them in therapy. At least it’s safer to be triggered there than it is randomly at home or at work. At least in session we can talk about what’s coming up. Between sessions, it’s so much more overwhelming…

Art instead of other things

As much as I didn’t want to be in therapy on Monday, I was really looking forward to group on Thursday… only group got cancelled 😦

So, in an effort to keep on the right track with my coping skills, I did art all day…

I’m not sure if I posted about my experiment making my own canvas journal, but I worked on that and some ATC’s that will be going out on a swap (if I can ever decide which ones to actually send. I like them all for various reasons. Some have deeper meanings than they may appear to just by looking at them).

Anyway, here are pics of it all. Some are WIP pics, others of completed pages/cards… I used Inka Gold on the canvas. It doesn’t work well. The paint is cracking and chipping already. I need to come up with something as a hard cover for the journal to help protect it better. It works fine on solid objects, but it’s not meant to be pliable once dried.

I’m glad I had the distraction today. Between pms, the passing of one of L’s family members (and what it’s bringing up for me), increased body sensations, stress around one of the dogs having eaten a spoon a week ago and still not passed it, and the thought of a crazy day at work tomorrow, my thoughts have been hovering over the more negative coping skills. Similar to what I mentioned to Dr C on Monday, I just wanted to be drunk, high, and bleeding. Instead I played art and listened to the Ellie Goulding station on Pandora… yay for picking the more socially acceptable coping skills.

Still processing

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

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

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

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

I should have gone to bed…

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

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