Therapist-M

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I’m so tired…

The past week or so has been a blur of chaos and anxiety… and I don’t have the energy to get into it…

The worst part is 3 nights in a row I haven’t gotten enough sleep and on top of that what sleep I do get has been filled with nightmares.

So my psych doc added prazosin to my crazy pill cocktail. It’s supposed to help with nightmares. I guess we’ll see.  At this point I feel like nothing is ever going to work. Ever.

I saw my therapist yesterday cause I needed to deal with shit that happened on Monday. It was a rough session cause I got all activated and this time she refused to walk me through coping skills… She said the time’s long since passed for when she jumps in and walks me through it, cause she knows I can do it on my own, even though I feel like I can’t and that’s why I suck at calming myself down on my own outside of the therapy room… And it sucked and was painful and scary and frustrating.

I don’t believe her. I feel like I always get stuck with this problem… like I need something outside of myself to latch onto, to focus on, and when I don’t have that it feels like none of my coping skills work…

I’m so tired… I just want some decent sleep… My body aches… This morning is even harder because new medicine makes me dizzy, awesome…

I keep feeling like I can’t move… My body feels so tense and locked up…

There’s a voice in the back of my head that’s starting to say the only things that will ever help me are drinking and cutting…

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Birthday Therapy

I had therapy today. My therapist baked me a chocolate cake. =D

It was both a present and a reward for getting 14 stars on my star chart. M makes little checklist/star charts for me with things I have to do. It started out with eating a fruit or veggie every day and exercising for 20 minutes twice a week. She’s working on getting me physically healthy, especially since eating better and exercising  is supposed to be good for your emotional and mental health. I grumble and whine and sulk and complain about it, cause I HATE exercising, but in the end I usually do it because she’s holding me accountable for it. And rewards me every so often ( and that especially works since I went above my goal this weekend cause I wanted my cake). Eating better isn’t so bad, at least, I eat more fruit now. I still don’t eat veggies, I hate them, but I like fruit. So I eat fruit instead.  This past week, she added on taking my medicine because I was bad and got out of the habit of taking it every day. I’d hardly taken it at all over the last 3 weeks. I’m also supposed to do “something fun” that’s outside of the house (and that’s tied with exercising for how much I hate it cause I don’t like going out).

Anyway, so yeah.

It was also sort of an anniversary for us cause tomorrow it marks 1 year since I first met her. I realized this last night- I knew I first met her right around my birthday, and so I went back to august of last year in my google calendar and saw my first appointment ever was Aug 19th 2012. So yeah.

BFF and I painted our nails today. My fingers are neon green, and my thumbs are this awesome confetti glitter. It’s called “It’s A Trap-eze” from China Glaze. It’s fabulous. And I don’t usually like glitter polishes.

After that I started drinking the birthday wine I picked up for myself. Very yummy. All in all it’s been a pretty good day.

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Dear self: you are not a special snowflake

I should have realized my thoughts would start to spiral into this.

At one point, Sunday, in therapy, I brought up that I’d been tempted all week to text her, “I need to hear from you that we still have a lot of work yet to do.” Sunday’s session focused a lot on the progress I’ve made, and going back through her notes and my blog regarding where I was 6 months ago and where I am now. As the week went on, I had this needling thought in my head that this is going too fast. Because getting better eventually leads to therapy coming to an end.

And right now I just can’t fathom not NEEDING to see M twice a week. (Often times I wish I was seeing her 3x a week…) So I needed to be reassured that I’m not losing this relationship any time soon. So we talked about that, and how it doesn’t mean we’ll be out of each others lives. Just that eventually a few years down the road, she said as my life becomes fuller, I’ll only need to see her once a week… then maybe every other week… then maybe once a month… then every few months. And that she’ll always be here. And stuff.

So I was thinking about that stuff.

And then earlier I was trying to think of what I might write as a like testimonial thing, because maybe a month ago or so, she mentioned she’s working on updating her website and was asking a couple of her clients if they’d want to write testimonial things for her website, and that I was one of the ones she had in mind.

So I was thinking about what I might write, how I’d recommend her to someone else, because I totally would, she’s amazing.  Then this nasty little voice in the back of my head pops up, “What makes you any different than any of her other clients? What makes you think she cares about you any more than she does any of her other clients? Why should she? Do you really think you’re some sort of special snowflake, that you’re different than all the other crazies she works with?”

Just like that I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut and I can’t breathe.

On some level, I almost think I should have expected these thoughts to creep up. It feels like a fucking cliche for someone with attachment issues.

I try to talk myself out of it. I have 15 index cards with things she’s written for me, advice, coping skills, positive thoughts, and little notes. She filled a whole page in my art journal in response to a statement I wrote in it. I’m trying to tell myself not to listen but it’s so hard right now. I know she cares. I know she does.

But I can’t stop hearing those thoughts now… They keep going over and over…

Catch me, I’m falling… faster than anyone should…

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Apparently I’ve Changed A Lot

Therapy somehow turned into how far I’ve come. M mentioned how different I appear today then when we first met. She also talked about how much more freely I communicate, and that it’s especially changed since I’ve been working.

I hadn’t noticed this. I mean, I know there’s been dozens and dozens of times in therapy where I’ve struggled to speak, struggled to find the words to express what I’m trying to say. And at times I’ve resorted to writing it out, rather than saying it. M says I speak more, and I make more eye contact, and that we have more of a back and forth conversation now.

She also said my appearance has chanced a lot. That I look healthier, and I hold myself differently. She also really thinks I’ve lost weight- but I doubt that.

I tried to argue that we haven’t been talking about hard, intense, difficult, painful stuff lately. But she pointed out that we have, that there’s been a lot of talk to do with dealing with conflicts, sexuality, and, the fact I spoke with my mom a couple weeks ago. (Yeah. My mom called me and I spoke to her. I don’t think I even wrote about it on here.)

I don’t know. It’s so hard to believe.

I tried to think about things we’ve talked about, and what we’ve been dealing with, but everything blurs together for me. I took out my phone and started going back through my blog, and she started looking through her notes as well. I even let her look at my blog on her phone, until after a while I started getting a little be self-conscious. Partly cause she said I’m a good writer and partly because she read something I’d written a while ago about something she said and then my response to it in my blog.

She also thought it was sort of neat and useful how much I keep a record of stuff, and how most people don’t. I started out doing it on forums cause I wanted feedback, and then I moved to a blog to have my own space and stuff. I do it so I can remember, and look back if I want to though I don’t look back at my old posts often. I also do it to process and hash things out that’s swirling through my head.

I didn’t even used to be very good at keeping up my blog. Though I’ve been pretty regular about it the last few months.

… ugh. I’m totally not any good at writing though, I don’t know why she thinks it’s good. I just write down the crazy shit going through my head. And I don’t bother to proofread.

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Am I Giving Up?

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.

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Depression

Why does every day have to be so fucking excruciating?

I don’t want to be around anyone. I don’t want to do anything. I should be doing productive things because I need money, but instead I’ve been watching youtube videos for 2 days straight. It takes my mind off of everything. After I fucked up last night, I ended up staying up until 3 in the morning watching this guy play horror videogames because it was hilarious. Then I slept in until nearly 11, and when I got up and got online I just ended up watching more videos.

We’re babysitting in less than an hour and, honestly, it’s the last thing in the world I want to do. Babies take too much energy. I just want to sit here doing nothing. I don’t want to be around anybody.

This is why I can’t get a job. I know I need one, I’m so fucking broke it’s horrible. But I can’t, because I’m pathetic and just want to do nothing forever. Honestly, right now, I don’t even care.

Also, I haven’t heard from J in a month. I know she was sick a while ago, and her girls were sick, and she’s so busy. The last time I talked to her was when all the crazy crap with my parents was going down, and she wanted to call and actually talk on the phone about everything, but we could never work out a time. So I’m feeling really disconnected from her. I miss her.

All I can keep thinking is that it’s always going to be like this. I’m always going to be alone, because for whatever reason I can’t hold onto relationships… they just… drift away…

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“You’re part of this family.”

I haven’t had a lot of time to write- there’s been the e-mails from BPDm, and then a lot of business with my friend and her family, a lot of babysitting. We had Little Man over night last weekend- he slept in my room. I took care of a toddler over night- it was a bizarre experience and something I never expected to be doing. When I was talking to my therapist, she commented that she thinks I’d be a good mom if I wanted that some day. Little Man makes me feel like that a lot- that I’d be okay, that I could be a good mom. It’s not something I want right now, but who knows… maybe someday.

Over the weekend we went shopping at the outlet mall. I mostly just tagged along cause I like to look even though I don’t have money to buy anything. BFF found the super cute and pretty Minnie Mouse themed outfit at the Disney outlet, that she’s been wanting to get for the Pretty Princess to wear at her 1st birthday party. So, yesterday we went over to TL’s for a photoshoot to take pictures of the Pretty Princess in her dress.

At one point TL was talking about it’s sometimes confusing because she thinks of me and BFF as her cousins, but with the kids it’s just easier for them to call us Auntie. Especially since we’d be like 2nd cousins or something. And I was like, “And technically I’m not even related to y’all.” And TL looked up at me and replied, “You’re a part of this family, too. You’re family.” and was very serious and adamant about it. I was a little shocked. Thankfully the subject changed before I could start crying.

It’s still hard to believe that I’ve been taken in by this family. BFF’s aunts are like my aunts, and they think of me as their niece as much as BFF is.

It’s so strange, because in therapy last Sunday, M made the same comment, about how I’ve become apart of this family. This huge, accepting, extended family. It’s not like I’m the only one who’s not blood either. TL isn’t blood, but she calls Aunt P ‘mom’. It’s so strange. I still don’t feel like I deserve it, like I belong… but I could never leave. I love them too much.

I’m trying to just soak it in and let myself be happy, and not think about that tiny voice in my head that’s pointing out how BPDm always went on about how she wanted a big extended family (supposedly that’s part of what attracted her to my dad, he had a whole bunch of siblings) but she never got that. But now I have one. It’s weird.

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Therapy Tough Stuff, and The Boy from the Bus

It’s been a long week, and yesterday was a particularly long day.

I had therapy and it ended up being a very hard session. We were supposed to do EMDR but I ended up venting about my week and it led to other difficult stuff- my issues with panic attacks when I go to the GYN and general uncomfortable and confusing feelings about everything having to do with my body and sexuality. I tend to avoid this stuff because I don’t like dealing with it. It’s too much. It’s not something I’m ready for and I don’t think I ever will be. Partly because I don’t know why I’m so twisted up with issues around this stuff, and I have this fear that something might have happened that I don’t remember. As far as I know it’s extremely unlikely that something happened to me, but it’s the first thing that comes up in my mind.

Maybe it’s some part of me that feels guilty and scared and doesn’t want to blame my mom. But it’s more likely because of her. Because of all the mixed messages and switching form black to white thinking then back again.

My therapist brought up that that’s what she was thinking too. And that growing up the only thing I had that was completely mine was my body. That one of the few things I had control over was who came into my personal space.

One of my first thoughts though, was, no… no that wasn’t always true… But I couldn’t say it outloud.

She also pointed out that when I first started seeing her I wasn’t comfortable with her sitting next to me on the couch, but now I’m okay with it (and at times I almost prefer it) and we were even holding hands today. Deep down, I crave the affection. It feels safe and comforting.

But it’s really hard not to be pissed off at myself for it later. I get angry and that voice in my head that tells me I shouldn’t need people, that they’re just going to let me down or stab me in the back or throw it in my face later, that nothing is free, that it’s weak, that I should only depend on myself.

I was trying to explain this to my therapist, but the words got stuck. She knows me so well though, she voiced them for me, asking if that’s what goes through my head. She had it exactly right. I always liked that about her and my old therapist. They’re so good at putting into words the things I struggle to explain.

Anyway, after therapy I headed home. I was going to go over to meet best friend at Aunt P’s to help her baby sit the little one. At the bus stop where I had to transfer I ran into a boy I’d encountered on the bus months ago, it’s the boy from this post. He started talking to me, shoving his number at me again. This time, I was better at ignoring him. When he tried to insist on me calling his number, I was messing with my phone, texting my best friend. I told him I would in a minute, that I was trying to get a hold of someone first. I was freaking out inside. Eventually he wondered off and I tried to keep my distance, constantly glancing around to be sure he wasn’t coming back. Finally my bus came and I made it to Aunt P’s. I ate something and felt a little better, and vented to best friend and Aunt P about everything.

When I tell my therapist about this tomorrow, she’s probably going to think it’s a huge deal because I handled it 10x better than last time. Yet, I don’t feel like it’s a big deal. She’s probably going to be frustrated because this is something we keep coming back to- I just don’t give myself credit for anything. I should be proud of myself for how I handled it, but I don’t feel anything really. There’s just the small voice in my head that is all, “Yeah, but, I wasn’t trapped in a corner of the bus with no way out.”

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Long Week

First of all- I log into wordpress and find myself baffled because the homepage was changed and is all different. I couldn’t figure out how to get to my dashboard so I could manage stuff and write this post. (I don’t like the quick post type things on the home page.) I’m always startled when webpages completely change their layout without warning…

Anyway. It’s been a long long week. I finally got over my cold. Took me a few days but I’m feel better now. A little sniffly but fine. But by the time I got over this cold there was all kinds of drama going on that I had to deal with and I wasn’t in the headspace to write about it.

It had to do with several members of the family being worried and upset, because everyone had this gut feeling that something bad was going to happen this weekend- we thought TL was going to end up killing herself. She’s been having a hard time, has a lot of issues, and struggles with depression. And she’s still grieving over Q dying last year. She’s said a couple times she wants to go be with Q.

This week though, a couple of people in particular (who are sensitive and have some psychic abilities) had this feeling something was going to happen. And according to best friend and her mom the spirit world was in chaos and worried and trying to communicate. Q and other family members who have passed were trying to get messages across and thought TL was going to kill herself.

When I heard about this, I was triggered badly. I went into crises mode, my mind racing with ‘how can I fix this?’ and my chest felt tight, and I got that floaty fuzzy dissociative feeling. It only last a minute or so because then my best friend said something that snapped me back into the present. It had to do with a dream I had early in the week- a very strange dream where I knew I was dreaming, and even weirder was that Q was in it- I had told my best friend about it, and she thought Q was trying to send me a message. Anyway, what my best friend said was really touching but at the same time terrifying, and it made me cry because it brought back all the feelings that I’m not good enough and that I’m just going to let them down because I’m a fuck up and crazy.

Anyway. We were on edge and stressed and worried sick.

Thursday night, I ended up getting to talk to my old therapist, J, about it. We just chatted as friends and I vented to her a little, because I was triggery and scared, and dealing with a lot of feelings. But I didn’t know if I wanted to talk to my current therapist, M about it. Because I was scared that if I said too much she’d have to make a report.

On Friday when I went to therapy, I did even up talking to M about it. I set it up carefully by asking first off, hypothetically, about the situation. At first M thought we should be cautious and not use real names. But when she found out more that as far as I knew TL hadn’t actually said anything, or made a plan, and there was no actual intent that we knew of, that it was safe to talk about it in more detail, because without any actual intent there’s nothing M can report. There was no real proof or evidence to put into a report. It was just the gut feelings of certain people- and a bunch of ghosts. The session went by so fast, and it was the first time I was disappointed over how fast the session felt. The first time I left not feeling much better.

Friday night, best friend’s mom ended up going over to TL’s to talk to her. She wanted to check in and see how she was doing, and remind TL that we love her and are here for her. I think she also gave TL a message from Q, that he doesn’t want her to join him before it’s her time, and that he needs her to be with the kids. It sounded like TL took it really well and admitted that she does feel really bad sometimes and stuff. Everyone seemed to feel better after best friend’s mom talked to her.

Saturday, was C’s birthday party. (2 years old). It ended up going really really well and was pretty fun.

Today in therapy, it was intense. I was telling M about what happened, and she caught me saying “our family” at one point. I didn’t even notice. I’ve never called them that before, always best friend’s family. We talked about the idea of having 2 families. That I’ve adopted them as my family, as much as they’ve adopted me. I got really emotional and broke down for a bit, struggling with these feelings. Because all I could think is that I’m not good enough and don’t deserve it.

I was also struggling with wanting to ask M to come sit with me, rather than across from me. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. We had started to work on a collage when I mentioned they’d been something I wanted to say but I couldn’t. And eventually I wrote it out and gave it to her. She said she had been sort of struggling with the same thing, that she wasn’t sure if I wanted space to sit with the feelings, or if I wanted her to be closer. But yeah. We talked more about that, and how I felt stupid for wanting to reach out. That it’s weak to need someone… that it’s dangerous to rely on someone who might let you down. And M said how it must be so scary letting best friend’s family in. And I was already starting to break down again, but more so because I was terrified that if they rely on me I’ll let THEM down.

And yeah. Very intense, rough session.