I'm at my wits end. Literally I feel like something fell out of the sky and just squished me to the ground. So quickly...so instantly.
Therapy was AWFUL on Friday. And I thought it was going so well. I left feeling like she doesn't want me there anymore. Like my reasons for being there aren't good enough. I think she feels like I don't NEED to be there. Maybe I don't. Maybe I'm a narcissistic freak that can't bear the thought of NOT talking about myself.
I left the session with her saying "I will keep your appointment on the calender for the next and following weeks, but let me know if you don't want to do that". Seriously...fuck you. I don't want to be angry at her, but I think I really am. I told her I wanted her to push me and she said she doesn't feel comfortable with that. What the fuck is your job then? Seriously, I'm paying you $150 fucking dollars out of MY pocket because I don't have insurance. I took a fucking job! So I could pay for therapy! How pathetic!? And you question whether I really want to be here!? Of course I hate it! Of course it's uncomfortable! Is it suppose to be any other way?
Rant aside. I'm going to email her on Wednesday and cancel all my sessions. I'm done. I then plan to go the medicinal route. Anyone who knows me knows this is absolutely the LAST thing I want to do, and I'm not actually sure I want that either. I know Sondra will be mad/disappointed at me quitting...but maybe taking medication will make her less disappointed?
QUESTION:
I have been on anti anxiety/depression meds in the past but I was seeing therapist through school and was able to get prescriptions. I'm kind of at a loss with what to do now. How do I get a prescription? I figure I need to make an appointment with a psychiatrist? Will I sit down for one appointment with them and then just get pills that afternoon? Is that how it works?
It's absolutely ironic that I'm having severe anxiety at the THOUGHT of going to a psychiatrist. I wish I could just get pills without talking to someone.
Monday, November 18, 2013
Friday, November 15, 2013
Cue faceplant...again
And I may legitimately be quitting therapy. Worst session ever. I feel like absolute total crap.
Huzzah!
Successful run and video workout yesterday! Feeling pretty good :) I feel successful in that I think I pulled myself out of a spot.
Anyways, therapy is today. And nerves are kicking in. Didn't sleep a whole lot last night. Just hoping all goes well without any awkwards, but ya know...queen of awkward right here.
Anyways, therapy is today. And nerves are kicking in. Didn't sleep a whole lot last night. Just hoping all goes well without any awkwards, but ya know...queen of awkward right here.
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
There she sits.
It's funny when that feeling comes back. I'm being aware of it. I'm sitting in the corner watching it...and watching myself resist it. And *pat on the back* I'm doing great at resisting. But there is an uneasiness settling in.
I first felt it last week after the event had time to settle. I keep thinking all I need right now is some ORDER. I've been making lists in my head. Documenting. Planning. And with that always comes my great plan to "get healthy". Problem with that is my perception is a bit skewed. It means everything "good" goes away. It means if I go to bed hungry, then I'm doing something right. It means I will cuddle up in that bed of depression and just sleep instead of eat. It means I will hate myself for eventually eating. I've been feeling so good for awhile....I don't want to feel bad again. Yet, there she sits. There is nothing to gain, but there is some power in it all I suppose.
I legitimately want to go for a run today. It's pretty crisp outside and just looks like good running weather. I have eaten today. And I'm trying to figure out it I feel guilty about what I ate. It was a lunch of carbs and preservatives. It wasn't good. I wonder if I run if it will motivate me to eat healthier. Or will I spiral? Or will it do absolutely nothing at all? Am I paranoid? I am.
I think I will run...without running a specific amount of miles or hours or burning a specific number of calories. I will just run.
I first felt it last week after the event had time to settle. I keep thinking all I need right now is some ORDER. I've been making lists in my head. Documenting. Planning. And with that always comes my great plan to "get healthy". Problem with that is my perception is a bit skewed. It means everything "good" goes away. It means if I go to bed hungry, then I'm doing something right. It means I will cuddle up in that bed of depression and just sleep instead of eat. It means I will hate myself for eventually eating. I've been feeling so good for awhile....I don't want to feel bad again. Yet, there she sits. There is nothing to gain, but there is some power in it all I suppose.
I legitimately want to go for a run today. It's pretty crisp outside and just looks like good running weather. I have eaten today. And I'm trying to figure out it I feel guilty about what I ate. It was a lunch of carbs and preservatives. It wasn't good. I wonder if I run if it will motivate me to eat healthier. Or will I spiral? Or will it do absolutely nothing at all? Am I paranoid? I am.
I think I will run...without running a specific amount of miles or hours or burning a specific number of calories. I will just run.
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
"big dog"/"little dog"
Oh this is going to be long. Feeling kind of thankful for my little secret blog at the moment. This is the first time in quite awhile that I have had time to myself to be a bit reflective.
Last week Sondra called me to tell me she was going to be late from school. She starts off with "Don't worry, I will be home...just a little late. And when I tell you why I don't think you will really care that I'm late, just that I will be home." My mind starts racing imagining all these horrific accidents she could have been in. Turns out she actually had been on the phone with one of our friends, consoling her after an absolutely traumatic incident. They had adopted a dog as a friend for their little dog. Had him less than a few weeks, and she came home to find that the new dog had killed her old dog while she was gone.
Why am I recounting this here? Because I absolutely lost it upon hearing this. Like, lost use of my legs...fell to the floor in a pile of tears and upset. Typing this now...I even have to push back the tears. I had never met either of the dogs. E (Sondra's friend) was really helpful in calming me down during the week of the proposal (oh yes, update I proposed to Sondra...she said yes...updated on other blog). E was also the person I went to see Jillian Michaels with when Sondra couldn't go. So, while E is more Sondra's friend, I have hung out with her. When Sondra told me what happened, as I said, I lost it on the phone. When Sondra drove home I was still a mess and then felt guilty on top of everything because I never asked Sondra how she was dealing, since she had to get E out of the house over the phone and basically had to be a listening ear to a completely traumatic situation for E.
When Sondra got home, I apologized for not asking earlier and then got myself all worked up again. Thereby not allowing myself to be there for her when she needed me. I was feeling TOO much. Every part of me hurt, ached for E and her husband, for her little dog, for the dog that did this. I felt so awful and was putting myself in everyone's shoes. I couldn't have a conversation about this incident. I couldn't console Sondra. I couldn't help her process the situation. I was completely overwhelmed.
This has happened before. Where a sad situation, that doesn't involve me, completely incapacitates me. Another event that did this was the shooting at the elementary school last year. I had to keep myself from any media for about a week otherwise I was done for the day.
Anyways, this is what I brought to therapy with me last week. I started talking about all the perspectives I was seeing in this situation. How I felt as if my own dog had been killed, as if I had been the one who witnessed and experienced that. I then also felt for "little dog". No one knew that "big dog" was a bully or unstable...but "little dog" did. And being alone with him for the last few weeks must have been terrifying. And then "big dog". I feel bad for "big dog". He will be/has been euthanized. I feel guilty for feeling bad for him, but I do.
So as I talked about all these scenario,s my therapist wanted to touch more on how I felt about "little dog". I knew as I stepped into that question where we were going. It was something I caught myself thinking about a little after the incident...how closely related "little dog" and I were, or how I was connecting our stories. I explained to A (my therapist) that "little dogs" humans were suppose to protect her. "Little dog" has no other choice but to trust that...that is a scary realization and something I think about a lot when I'm volunteering at animal shelters. Anyways, I explained how scary it must have been for her to have her humans leave each time. And ultimately how terrifying the situation was in the end. A asked if I had ever felt like this before. I managed to get through all this with only a red face (no tears), I said "I can't do this now...I have to go to work right after this...I just can't. I'm not opposed to talking about it...I just can't now". She understood. And when I explained to her how I needed to be there for Sondra and let her talk about how she was feeling about the situation, she said that I can't. She says she thinks I connected myself to this little dog and retraumatized myself from past "trauma"...yuck I seriously hate that word.
Now I'm kind of freaking out about next week. I honestly don't know how to discuss this stuff. Never have. And I also feel like an idiot. Like my "trauma" isn't big enough to be called a "trauma". Going to a therapist for what I went through is like going to the emergency room with a hangnail. What I experienced wasn't traumatic...it was confusing yes, but traumatic no. Abuse is too big a word. No words fit my experience and I feel silly for bringing it up.
Yikes next week will be a doozy.
Last week Sondra called me to tell me she was going to be late from school. She starts off with "Don't worry, I will be home...just a little late. And when I tell you why I don't think you will really care that I'm late, just that I will be home." My mind starts racing imagining all these horrific accidents she could have been in. Turns out she actually had been on the phone with one of our friends, consoling her after an absolutely traumatic incident. They had adopted a dog as a friend for their little dog. Had him less than a few weeks, and she came home to find that the new dog had killed her old dog while she was gone.
Why am I recounting this here? Because I absolutely lost it upon hearing this. Like, lost use of my legs...fell to the floor in a pile of tears and upset. Typing this now...I even have to push back the tears. I had never met either of the dogs. E (Sondra's friend) was really helpful in calming me down during the week of the proposal (oh yes, update I proposed to Sondra...she said yes...updated on other blog). E was also the person I went to see Jillian Michaels with when Sondra couldn't go. So, while E is more Sondra's friend, I have hung out with her. When Sondra told me what happened, as I said, I lost it on the phone. When Sondra drove home I was still a mess and then felt guilty on top of everything because I never asked Sondra how she was dealing, since she had to get E out of the house over the phone and basically had to be a listening ear to a completely traumatic situation for E.
When Sondra got home, I apologized for not asking earlier and then got myself all worked up again. Thereby not allowing myself to be there for her when she needed me. I was feeling TOO much. Every part of me hurt, ached for E and her husband, for her little dog, for the dog that did this. I felt so awful and was putting myself in everyone's shoes. I couldn't have a conversation about this incident. I couldn't console Sondra. I couldn't help her process the situation. I was completely overwhelmed.
This has happened before. Where a sad situation, that doesn't involve me, completely incapacitates me. Another event that did this was the shooting at the elementary school last year. I had to keep myself from any media for about a week otherwise I was done for the day.
Anyways, this is what I brought to therapy with me last week. I started talking about all the perspectives I was seeing in this situation. How I felt as if my own dog had been killed, as if I had been the one who witnessed and experienced that. I then also felt for "little dog". No one knew that "big dog" was a bully or unstable...but "little dog" did. And being alone with him for the last few weeks must have been terrifying. And then "big dog". I feel bad for "big dog". He will be/has been euthanized. I feel guilty for feeling bad for him, but I do.
So as I talked about all these scenario,s my therapist wanted to touch more on how I felt about "little dog". I knew as I stepped into that question where we were going. It was something I caught myself thinking about a little after the incident...how closely related "little dog" and I were, or how I was connecting our stories. I explained to A (my therapist) that "little dogs" humans were suppose to protect her. "Little dog" has no other choice but to trust that...that is a scary realization and something I think about a lot when I'm volunteering at animal shelters. Anyways, I explained how scary it must have been for her to have her humans leave each time. And ultimately how terrifying the situation was in the end. A asked if I had ever felt like this before. I managed to get through all this with only a red face (no tears), I said "I can't do this now...I have to go to work right after this...I just can't. I'm not opposed to talking about it...I just can't now". She understood. And when I explained to her how I needed to be there for Sondra and let her talk about how she was feeling about the situation, she said that I can't. She says she thinks I connected myself to this little dog and retraumatized myself from past "trauma"...yuck I seriously hate that word.
Now I'm kind of freaking out about next week. I honestly don't know how to discuss this stuff. Never have. And I also feel like an idiot. Like my "trauma" isn't big enough to be called a "trauma". Going to a therapist for what I went through is like going to the emergency room with a hangnail. What I experienced wasn't traumatic...it was confusing yes, but traumatic no. Abuse is too big a word. No words fit my experience and I feel silly for bringing it up.
Yikes next week will be a doozy.
Saturday, October 12, 2013
The beads in my brain....
Therapy went well. I feel strange saying that. I'm starting to come to the realization and acceptance that a "good therapy session" typically means I sat and cried for an hour, as opposed to sitting in silence while someone tries to drag information out of me. The deeper I get into this therapy the more I'm starting to see how wrong B (my old therapist) was for me. I actually find myself to be a little angry at her.
This week started with the usual breathing exercise, which I really enjoy because it helps me calm down just a little bit. I do really well throughout the week, minus those 15 minutes waiting in the car or the waiting room for therapy. Then I start to have my little panic attack. Anyways, therapy started out with me being really frustrated at myself for being so uncomfortable after a month and a half of weekly appointments. We talked about that and how I expect myself to come in a certain way (more confident, cool, collected) not because I want to impress her...which was most certainly where a lot of the nerves came from with B....but to get the stuff in my head worked out so I can be a loving partner in my relationship with Sondra. So, I don't even know how it started but I was suddenly crying. "A" will usually have me close my eyes and "sit with the feeling" and recognize how it sits in my body. That made me cry a little more because I just hear buzzing, and everything gets fuzzy and noisy and confusing. After I opened my eyes and tried to explain what I was feeling I got all embarrassed because I was starting to lose what we were talking about. My stomach felt hard as a rock and it was hard to breathe through the exercise. She had me draw this "rock" out so she could see it. And asked me about what it felt like. I was trying to explain the energy that is contained in this seemingly solid mass and I started to explain something that happens in my head. I have these metal beads in my head. On good days there are two, slow moving, happy silver beads. Then stuff happens, I get nervous, I feel bad, guilty, angry...and those beads speed up. They start to ricochet off one another and produce more beads with each collision. Pretty soon there are so many beads that there is no room to move and they start to meld together into this thick, heavy mass. That's what my stomach felt like.
At the end of this explanation I started to cry again. I get so afraid that I sound crazy. That people don't understand. When I told her this, she said "here, let me tell you what I'm understanding from what you're saying"...and....she got it. She said "I can understand why it would be difficult to remember things with all of this going on" It's probably the first time in therapy EVER that I felt like...okay, this might be helpful. Feeling understood felt incredibly umm words...words...lifting? No, I don't know...it just made me feel a little stronger. Like...okay self, you can do this because SOMEONE is listening and trying to understand AND (big plus) actually seems like she is getting it for real.
Blah....all that being said...I still HATE crying. I find myself doing it a lot these days. Sondra says I'm learning to "regulate my emotions" in a safe space so crying is becoming less scary and therefore, I'm more willing to do it. I do feel myself fighting it a lot less...and, I begrudgingly say this, I am starting to feel better after crying. Which is also new.
Therapy side note: I hate the end of session when I have to pay. I don't have insurance so I pay in cash. This week "A" was talking to me as I was getting the money out and then once I handed it to her, kept talking. I went into complete "awkward freak" mode because I can't tell when I'm suppose to leave so I pretty much bolt out of there, mumbling answers because I'm afraid I'll get caught up in the talking and won't read the cues to leave! Gah I'm such a weirdo.
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
Updates from my mind.
I'm back here for more positive reasons. There are just some things I can't say in my "family and friends" friendly blog. And I'm feeling a need to hash out some things that have happened this weekend. In the next month though I'm going to work on fixing up this blog with a more positive focus.
I feel on the road to "recovery" in all senses of the word. I've been making some pretty positive decisions lately and I feel like things in my head are finally starting to come together. Sondra and I went through a rough patch last month. I've started therapy again. It was extremely difficult to get myself back into a therapy type situation, but I felt myself doing exactly what I did in my last relationship. Pushing her away, yelling, verbally abusing her at every turn. It's so awful. I was also back in the habit (after a really long break) of cutting almost every night. I'm too fucking old for this! So, I found a therapist, with Sondra's help. I'm coming to terms with how messed up my last therapy experience was (not sure if I ever mentioned it here but between two suicide attempts my therapist hired me to work in her office, doing paperwork and copying and such, all the while still receiving therapy from her...I was then "fired" when I attempted suicide again.) This new therapist is really nice and understanding and I think will be helpful. Though I don't think I'll EVER be comfortable crying. EVER.
Life things I've been thinking about: My 15 year old cousin came out to me last week. And then proceeded to come out to her parents. I'm so proud of her. I want to be this really good role model for her but I don't feel that I am. She is so open and honest with her feelings and I find myself a little uncomfortable with that. As well as feeling a bit bummed and hard on myself for not being like that when I was younger. I mean she seriously sat down with her mom awhile back and told her she was confused about her sexuality. That is something I wouldn't even do NOW with my mother. I'm actually really in awe of her. I'm proud and amazed and so happy that she has amazing accepting friends.
I've been doing so well with food. Not over eating. Not starving. Kept myself at a pretty even spot. Not always necessarily eating healthy but I'm working on balancing and not overdoing. Example: I, in the past would have major binges which would trigger a month or two of fasting/starving/over exercising. I haven't done that in some time. A few nights ago I made some cookies. Had a major binge fest on them...for no particular reason. I felt that crap start to sneak into my head. When Monday came along I was going to throw out all the rest of the cookies, fast and run. Instead I kept them their....as a test. Monday came around. I went for a 30 minute run (not 3 hours) came home, drank lots of water, had a banana and oatmeal for breakfast, did some homework, had a normal dinner (soup and salad)...and allowed myself 1 cookie. I'm allowed one a day and I'm feeling okay about that. Just one. Things feel less wobbly. I feel fuller...and I don't mean hunger wise. I feel...together. I actually feel powerful and controlled. I didn't think that was possible while eating regular and exercising sporadically. I don't know my weight. And most days I'm okay with that. I'm focusing on my running goal which is to complete a 5K on October 13th and possible a half in December.
More random things:
I met with a friend from High School for coffee today. When I first came out to her we had this agreement (in order to keep the friendship in tact): She wouldn't talk about God and I wouldn't talk about being gay. It sucked. But for some reason we trudged on through and maintained a really surface level relationship. Today, she apologized for her reaction. Though I'd long ago come to terms with the fact that everyone has their own processing time and I can't hold it against them, it was really nice to hear that from her. She talked about how she felt really bad when she found out I'd been cutting in HS. She said to me "I hope you don't feel like you need to be the person that puts on that fake smile for me anymore. You can be honest with me and authentic." Whoa. It felt good to hear that. Scary, but really good and comforting at the same time.
I feel like I have some people coming out of the woodwork who actually do care about me. Paired with therapy, I might actually reach the point where I'm able to return that care. Just felt like sharing. Hope all the people out here are doing alright. I don't visit very often but I think I might start using this as my "therapy afterthoughts" blog type thing.
I feel on the road to "recovery" in all senses of the word. I've been making some pretty positive decisions lately and I feel like things in my head are finally starting to come together. Sondra and I went through a rough patch last month. I've started therapy again. It was extremely difficult to get myself back into a therapy type situation, but I felt myself doing exactly what I did in my last relationship. Pushing her away, yelling, verbally abusing her at every turn. It's so awful. I was also back in the habit (after a really long break) of cutting almost every night. I'm too fucking old for this! So, I found a therapist, with Sondra's help. I'm coming to terms with how messed up my last therapy experience was (not sure if I ever mentioned it here but between two suicide attempts my therapist hired me to work in her office, doing paperwork and copying and such, all the while still receiving therapy from her...I was then "fired" when I attempted suicide again.) This new therapist is really nice and understanding and I think will be helpful. Though I don't think I'll EVER be comfortable crying. EVER.
Life things I've been thinking about: My 15 year old cousin came out to me last week. And then proceeded to come out to her parents. I'm so proud of her. I want to be this really good role model for her but I don't feel that I am. She is so open and honest with her feelings and I find myself a little uncomfortable with that. As well as feeling a bit bummed and hard on myself for not being like that when I was younger. I mean she seriously sat down with her mom awhile back and told her she was confused about her sexuality. That is something I wouldn't even do NOW with my mother. I'm actually really in awe of her. I'm proud and amazed and so happy that she has amazing accepting friends.
I've been doing so well with food. Not over eating. Not starving. Kept myself at a pretty even spot. Not always necessarily eating healthy but I'm working on balancing and not overdoing. Example: I, in the past would have major binges which would trigger a month or two of fasting/starving/over exercising. I haven't done that in some time. A few nights ago I made some cookies. Had a major binge fest on them...for no particular reason. I felt that crap start to sneak into my head. When Monday came along I was going to throw out all the rest of the cookies, fast and run. Instead I kept them their....as a test. Monday came around. I went for a 30 minute run (not 3 hours) came home, drank lots of water, had a banana and oatmeal for breakfast, did some homework, had a normal dinner (soup and salad)...and allowed myself 1 cookie. I'm allowed one a day and I'm feeling okay about that. Just one. Things feel less wobbly. I feel fuller...and I don't mean hunger wise. I feel...together. I actually feel powerful and controlled. I didn't think that was possible while eating regular and exercising sporadically. I don't know my weight. And most days I'm okay with that. I'm focusing on my running goal which is to complete a 5K on October 13th and possible a half in December.
More random things:
I met with a friend from High School for coffee today. When I first came out to her we had this agreement (in order to keep the friendship in tact): She wouldn't talk about God and I wouldn't talk about being gay. It sucked. But for some reason we trudged on through and maintained a really surface level relationship. Today, she apologized for her reaction. Though I'd long ago come to terms with the fact that everyone has their own processing time and I can't hold it against them, it was really nice to hear that from her. She talked about how she felt really bad when she found out I'd been cutting in HS. She said to me "I hope you don't feel like you need to be the person that puts on that fake smile for me anymore. You can be honest with me and authentic." Whoa. It felt good to hear that. Scary, but really good and comforting at the same time.
I feel like I have some people coming out of the woodwork who actually do care about me. Paired with therapy, I might actually reach the point where I'm able to return that care. Just felt like sharing. Hope all the people out here are doing alright. I don't visit very often but I think I might start using this as my "therapy afterthoughts" blog type thing.
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