Therapy today was difficult. I still had a lingering migraine, and before my session I nearly had a panic attack because BFF’s mom called me but I missed the call, and when I called her back she didn’t answer. And of course my first thought it, “omg what did I do?” And I’ve been hovering around a 6ish on a scale of 10 when it comes to anxiety, so yeah this bit set me off into a total panic and a freaked out. (When I got home, I found out she’d only called cause Aunt P needed the stroller I have sitting around in my room and BFF’s mom was gonna have me run it out, but, I wasn’t home. So yeah. I panicked over nothing.)
Things went bad when I admitted that I didn’t follow up on the job lead I had. I was supposed to call this cousin’s boss to ask about an opening they have. But I freaked out and didn’t do it because I didn’t know what I was supposed to say or do. I didn’t even know it’s okay to ASK for a job so directly and shit. And I was upset and frustrated because I was like, “I CAN’T ask.” And M sighed and was like, “Then you’re not going to get a job…” And then she asked me if I WANTED a job, and she said she thought that I had but now she wasn’t sure.
And I couldn’t outright say it, but truth is deep down, no. I still don’t want a job. But I NEED one and I HAVE to get one.
M wrote down things on the white board and then asked me which ones feel true. It was stuff like ‘If I don’t try then I won’t fail’ ‘learned helplessness’ ‘self sabotage’ ‘identity made up of perceived deficits’ (or something like that) ‘fear of trying’ ‘not wanting to get better’
I circled the thing about identity and fear of trying. And then I wrote something on the board cause I couldn’t bring myself to say it. But I told her that she keeps saying I can do stuff and she believes in me, but that I can’t control it when I shut down and fall apart. M and I went back and forth writing on the board to each other. She wasn’t letting me sit there feeling sorry for myself. She says I’m choosing to let the anxieties and stuff beat me when I’m not in the therapy room, that it’s almost like a defense to prove that I can’t do things. I was upset… and actually bold enough to write back, “You make it sound like I’m faking it.” She replied that she’s seen me go from and 8/9 down to a 3 in five minutes in the therapy room, but for whatever reason at home I don’t use those skills. I just let myself shut down and fall apart. I curl up in bed and break apart.
“I care too much about you to participate in this learned helplessness.” She wrote down. For a long time I didn’t say/write anything else. Eventually all that was left in me was that I needed to ask, I need to be sure this meant she wasn’t giving up on me… because at some point I’d gotten scared that she was, because she seemed so frustrated with me. She then wrote back on the board some stuff, and that sadness was a better word than frustration and that it comes from it seeming like I’m the one who’s already given up, when she hasn’t.
((Y’all, this is why I suck at blogging and why I obviously still have some issues with ADD. I started writing this around 8pm on 5/30, and then I started clicking through some of my other browser tabs I had open and here I am 10am the next day finally remembering I was in the middle of writing a blog post. Whoops.))
I left the session feeling utterly drained and miserable. I have a lot on my mind and a lot to think about. When I get the chance I might write more to process some of the things swirling around in my head, but I don’t know if I will. I can’t tell you how many times I lay in bed writing blog posts in my head and then never actually write them. I might get out my art journal and try to get some things out that way too. I don’t know.
defying ptsd 