Yowzers

Its been 18 days since I last wrote. And coincidentally that was also when I last saw my psychiatrist. I saw her again today. She blew my mind yet again. Before we get to that I’ll summarize the past 2.5 weeks.

Lots of emotion, drama, and guilt around family. This is the first year I saw none of them for the holidays. I’m still working to not feel guilty about it. I’ve been doing a lot with music, both going to concerts and playing. My body is still achy, my psychiatrist thinks its stress. She does not think a light box will help me, she said stress and trauma are what makes my depression so complicated to treat. I have finally been able to add some exercise back in.

I know you guys know this but I LOVE my psychiatrist. She is amazing. The difference between me this year and me last year at this time was made evident to me in two ways. The first one being that last year I NEVER would have dare to try to sightread a piece at the open mic with a player I didn’t know. I don’t even know if I would have played the Handel Sonata. And the second one, maybe bigger, is last year I felt guilty and sad that I stayed in my own apartment on Christmas Eve and didn’t stay at my mother’s. It was the first time she’d wake alone on Christmas day. This year I didn’t see her at all for the holiday. I’m still struggling with that but it is huge step for me. And my psychiatrist has helped me so much, as has my therapist.

Today she told me that while I’m the Identified Patient in my family (I said that to her) and likely always will be, my mother and sister both have severe personality disorders. And I was stunned. Blown away. You mean its not just me being the root cause of all the problems? I said some of the things they have made me think is normal and how I’m realizing more that the level of secrecy is so sick. She said I need to start realizing that they aren’t healthy and look at them as being mentally ill. I asked her, but then does that mean, if they are mentally ill, have I done enough to try to make this work? Do I need to try harder or do something different? Because if they can’t help it. . . do I just keep trying? And she laughed. She said no, you have bent over backwards to try to explain things to them and make it work. You often do so at the expense of your own health and well-being. You have done more than enough.

I believe she is thinking they have narcissistic personality disorder but I am not certain. I know she has said she thinks my mother, who she has met, has it. And my sister is nearly a clone of my mother in many ways. She also said I do not have personality issues, that I am just complicated by trauma and depression. She also thinks my mother knew exactly what she was doing when she began telling me how worried she is about sister’s maybe-husband, which surprised me. She thinks she was aware it would be painful to me to hear her concern for him.

This is going to take a lot of through and some time to settle in my brain.

The other good news is it looks like there might be some light on the horizon in job changes in the next six-eight months. Maybe 2016 will be a good year for me.

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Psychiatrist visit

I saw my psychiatrist Wednesday. I really didn’t want to go. Not because I don’t like her but because I really didn’t think there was anything she could do to help at this point. The medications don’t seem to help me. ECT and TMS aren’t options again. Going inpatient is not an option. And while I was weirdly starting to peruse what readings and music I would want at my memorial service I wasn’t actively suicidal. I just badly want to cease to exist but not be the one to cause it. And the exhaustion and despair have been beyond description.

The short version is basically I am being flooding with emotions from the past, also known as PTSD Hell. But because of my dissociation and where my life is at the moment they are being confused by me for present day emotions, when its really the past getting mixed up with the present. All because I felt none of these emotions in the past. I started at her and told her she had broken my brain. On a purely distant academic level what she said makes sense to me. But trying to think it through and apply it to my life, that is where it hurts my brain.

Apparently this absolute suckiness is why she was so adamant I commit to not killing myself. Because this kind of pain can make people jump off bridges if they aren’t ready for it yet and some therapists do make that mistake, pushing people too soon. She knows I’ve struggled with the thoughts and cutting thoughts. But she seemed weirdly excited or happy that I’m in this place. The entire thing is still mind-boggling and hard for me to process.

She wants me to really work on trusting her and my therapist to get me through this. I already trust them both more than I’ve ever trusted anyone before. It scares me already how much I trust and rely on them. I very much want to be an island unto myself, not needing other people or help from them. Apparently my visceral reaction when she mentioned the trust and attachment to her and my therapist is yet another clue what a big issue that is for me and not a “normal” reaction. And neither was my response to cry hysterically for 30 minutes straight because a friend of mine from church asked if she could talk to my therapist to learn how best to help me.

I’m supposed to stay as grounded as possible. Work even more on self-esteem and self-worth, areas I hate. Work on not feeling the need to apologize for daring to breathe at times. I felt better Thursday, which stunned me. I’m still having a hard time processing everything we talked about but there was a big difference Thursday. I let her know via email and she said she wasn’t surprised.

Therapy on Friday went well. It was hard to stay present and grounded for parts of it, but it was finally a session that had some productivity and wasn’t just constant damage control. I still felt like throwing up at the end. I wanted to go hide in bed, instead I went for a walk on the beach.

One thing I’m still trying to get through to my psychiatrist is that I’m not afraid of rejection. I basically don’t let people get close enough. What I AM afraid of, with many valid reasons, is of people getting close to me, getting to know me, and then using that knowledge to really hurt me or cause setbacks. I can deal with people leaving, so long as its done with some notice and a chance to say good-bye. And in general I don’t think I care much about what people think of me, I’m used to being somewhat wacky and an outsider. But given all that happened at my former church and with my horrible ex-therapist it is very hard for me to trust people not to turn on me and hurt me.

It is also hard because both of them have been there for me in ways no one else ever has. They are always there. I don’t have anxiety about them leaving me or not getting back to me. I can leave a message or send an email and I know they will respond when they can. Prior to working with both of them there was always a constant anxiety that the therapist was going to leave. I’m not really worried about that with either of them. Maybe because both of them have had ample opportunities to stop seeing me. The location my psychiatrist was working out of shut down with little warning. I was terrified of losing her but I was one of the few she offered to keep seeing as she figures out when and where she is going to open her own practice. That stunned me. The situation sucked but it also made her more human to me and enabled me to see that she really cares, that I’m not just a number on a sheet. I’ve tried at least twice to directly quit therapy with my therapist but she gets me through it. She knows its my DID, depression, and anxiety that is saying it, not me. Even when I was so mad at her for not letting me quit on the phone she didn’t let me stop.

Its also very helpful for me that because they are both in private practice I don’t have to deal with an on-call person who doesn’t know me. That was always a huge issue for me due to my trust issues. I don’t talk to people I don’t know when I’m in crisis. That was true before my DID diagnosis and holds even more true now. A person who doesn’t know me is going to err on the side of caution and force an ER evaluation on me if I’m not careful what I say. My past two therapists used to get so frustrated with me about that. In all honesty, especially given one was in the process of becoming certified in treating trauma and the horrible one claimed to treat trauma, they should have known that trust was a huge issue in that situation. Also, weirdly I feel like I call both of them way more than I did my pervious providers, which they all used to get upset with me for. And mostly they would all rush me off the phone within 5-10 minutes. But neither one of them has gotten upset with me for it, in fact my therapist ends every call by saying she’s glad I called her. I can tell she means it and she usually spends 20-30 minutes talking me through. I worry so much about being too needy but both have said to ask or they will let me know if its an issue.

I said to my therapist its scary and odd, to feel like they see me differently than I see myself, and maybe see me more realistically. That its good but I’m not sure I like it. My therapist said its just because they have perspective I don’t have yet.

I’m exhausted, this is a good time to stop. But my psychiatrist also understood why I have been feeling like I’m psychotic. In a large way I’m having to revaluate everything in my life to try to figure what is real, true, false, and what is a matter of perception. It is crazy making.

 

 

 

hard

Things have been very difficult. I had three days of therapy last week, not my normal two. Or I guess  I had three this week given its still Saturday. Hospitalization was seriously considered and discussed in the second appointment. By the third she had decided against it, instead she’s calling me daily, which I feel guilty about. So much emotion. So much exhaustion. I’m near a tipping point she says.I don’t know if I can hang on until it tips. I don’t know if I can survive whichever way it tips.

On Thursday she said as I was leaving, “This therapy stuff is hard work.” Normally that is something I would argue about. Instead I just looked and said, “I’m too tired to fight you on that one today.”

Struggling

I was so excited to go to therapy today. Monday night I finally said some things via text to my mother. A lot for me, some of which I’ve held inside for over six months. I was stunned and proud of myself for what I said and that I actually did it. I’ve spent the last few days in a state of shock. I think that evening I was just tired and sick enough (yay flu) to not care. To not bother censoring my thoughts. I messaged my psychiatrist and she responded the next morning congratulating me, saying I’ve needed to do this. I know I didn’t say everything but I said something.

I got irritable going to therapy today. I had to stop to pick up a few food items for my crockpot thanksgiving tomorrow. And I was annoyed that I had to go to three stores (no way in hell was I going to a grocery store) to find the potato flakes. Plus I forgot the sweet potatoes so I had to go to a second produce store.

In the waiting area I became both dissociated and irritable. I let her read the exchanges. And then my stupid fucking emotions came out all over the place. I drew with my pastels for part of the appointment, then huddled in a ball on the couch with my stuffed animals. The majority of what I said to her she responded with either flimsy excuses or ignored until I said I was going to sleep. And then she said feel better. Yeah, lets ignore all the other not so happy things. That has worked so AWESOMELY all these years, no?

I think what hurt me most was the feeling that it wasn’t even worth arguing with me or getting angry with me about what I said. It was just totally ignored after her stupid flimsy excuses. My therapist thinks I have a fear of people being angry with me, which I do, but this just feels more like apathy to me, like I’m just not worth it to her. My therapist isn’t totally sure on that either. She thinks her not getting angry is a good sign, I think its just going to mean more of the same. Sweep it under the rug, lalala.

I’m struggling to remember why self-harm is not supposed to be a good idea. Even during the session, when I felt the emotions building up I said that I somewhat wish I could be placed in restraints until this is out of me. (i’ve never been in restraints while inpatient, although I have been in the quiet rooms. I don’t think I’d normally do well in restraints.) Due to my flu its very hard to cope because I can’t exercise, do much music, can’t cook, can’t really do much of anything other than read and sometimes color or draw. I’m sad. I’m mad. I’m this stupid messy ball of emotions. Physical pain isn’t really pain to me. And right now it is calling to me. I keep trying to resist, waiting for it to be late enough to go to sleep.

I think part of what pushed me over the edge was seeing some of the hilt and manipulation tactics being used on me. Saturday my psychiatrist and I talked a lot about guilt. I guess it stuck and got through to me.

I’m so exhausted. Does life ever truly stop sucking?

Therapy and psychiatrist visits

I have a sinus infection again. I am miserable. I plan to call my new doctor tomorrow to see if she can see me on Tuesday. I’ve had a fever for over a week, possibly longer at this point. The sinus symptoms began to set in on Friday. The plus side is I managed to get through a lot of music stuff at church today, even sick.

Thursday was nice for much of the day and my anxiety wasn’t horrible. I got to go play with the horses of a new-ish friend and it made me so happy. I love horses. I can’t believe how much they used to scare me! The horses made a big difference in that.

I had therapy on Friday. I managed to stay more present than I have been in the past few weeks. There some dissociation but not nearly like what it has been. Towards the end I began a heavy sobbing because I’m just so tired and sick of emotions. There was drama with my mother on Thursday night. In some ways it has made many things about her more clear. But it isn’t easy for me to process or deal with. Thursday night had me doing what I loathe doing, reaching out to help from every source — my therapist, psychiatrist, and two friends. I didn’t know how to feel or react.

I saw my psychiatrist on Saturday. It went way too fast. Normally at the end of the hour I am dying to leave because it feels like months. And there have been a few times I’ve asked if its time to leave because its so much information to take in, there is such a depth to much of my session with her. (I don’t bother to track time with my therapist or psychiatrist.I trust them both to give me the full time, which was not the case with ex-therapist who I literally and to clock watch to ensure my damn 45 minutes. Seriously there were times she would end and i’d be like um no, you started 5-10 minutes late.) So when she said it was nearly time to end I was shocked and said, “Really? That went so fast! I’m normally dying to get out of here!” She started to laugh because she knows its not a bad thing in my eyes, that its part of why I appreciate her so much. She pointed out in fairness that I had asked for certain topics to be avoided and that probably helped.

There were certain themes throughout the session. I feel guilty about so much. My overdeveloped sense of responsibility, my need to try to fix things and rescue people. That right now I feel a bit lost because I have no idea what my purpose is and why I’m alive. She kept pushing on the guilt, asking what is underneath it. And I really don’t know.  The innate need to try to do everything good, perfect, to put others needs ahead of my own. I emailed her when I got home that I think part of it is if I can help people then maybe, just maybe, all the pain and everything I went through would have a reason and something good would come out of it. Which fits in with other things I struggle with. I want the world and emotions to be logical. I want things to make sense and fit together. I hate the grays of life. I’m not ready yet to fully deal with the fact that what happened to me really happened for no reason.

Apparently life goals are different from therapy goals. So I never got that aspect answered because that was when we began to run out of time. I didn’t know they were two different things. But even though we didn’t really directly talk about everything that had me upset I know I conveyed it through writing. And I feel secure with her again. In my message to her I said more about that I think. She raised my Same-e. I was on 400mg. This week I go to 600mg, next week to 800mg. I found a cheaper supplier and I think I can let housing and DTA know if it ends up being a monthly expense.

I did let her know through email that its really helpful for me when we miscommunicate that she labels it miscommunication. She usually apologizes, which I don’t find needed, but its helpful for me to see that we misread each other somewhere and have her not get upset with me or even blame me for it.

I’m tired. I hope I feel physically better soon. Therapy tomorrow and Wednesday this week.

 

Eleven days and it feels like months

I haven’t written in 11 days. It feels like months with all that has been going on and yet its not even two full weeks. I’ll try to summarize it as best as possible.

Anxiety has been sky-high. It hasn’t been this bad since I was in college. I normally have anxiety related to situations or performances, this is that underlying all-encompassing general anxiety. It sucks. I ordered magnesium powder to see if that will help. I also got permission to increase my Valium to 2 a day if needed. And while some of the underlying reason might have come out in therapy on Monday I am still super anxious. My irritability is high and tolerance for many things is low and I’m wondering if that is tied into the anxiety.

Therapy has been really hard. I basically have been starting the sessions somewhat present and wind up dissociating badly before its over. I’ve been trying to color to help stay present and at some point I drop it, curl in a ball and just leave. Its been an issue for at least two or three weeks now. And I think its been a little hard for my therapist at times. I thought maybe it was related to my constant anxiety, exhaustion, fatigue, and body aches.

Well, on Monday she pushed just enough to get me to realize something at the end of the appointment. I couldn’t bring myself to say it aloud. I just kept saying she didn’t understand, that I was afraid, that I could hurt her. She said she isn’t my last therapist, that she knows how to handle the dissociation and DID. That she won’t be mad or upset, that it will be ok. I was so upset and left somewhat agitated and crying even as I was leaving. Because what I had realized was terrifying and embarrassing to me. Basically I’m terrified that if this goes in the direction it is going, which is feeling all the fucking feelings, well I’m afraid I will physically lash out and hurt her. Or break things in her office. And then go hurt all the other people I want to hurt. Physically. Like go on a spree. That I need to be dissociated because I am afraid of what I could do. And I’m struggling to not harm myself but would rather do that over hurting someone else. I also explained in the session how at times I’ve been getting a radiating burring hot energy down my arms that makes me want to cut.

I emailed her when I got home what I couldn’t say out loud. I said I know its probably irrational, delusional, or psychotic because I’ve never hurt anyone else. But that dear is very real to me. She called me between clients to check in with me. She gets it better now. She said given that I never learned to deal with anger and other feelings my terror makes sense. And that she won’t take my dissociation away. I’m a bit afraid of going again on Friday. She also said during the appointment that I should ask to increase my valium, which has been done.

I’ve been having a lot of fatigue, exhaustion, muscle pain, chronic low fevers, a hard time getting out of  bed. My therapist and psychiatrist think it is tied into how hard therapy is right now. I don’t totally disagree with them but the muscle pain and low fever makes me think something physical might be going on as well. I finally found a new PCP (and bonus I really liked her) and had blood work done on Monday.

My psychiatrist and I have started to sort out some miscommunications. I am seeing her Saturday. In the confusion of figuring out when I could get a valium script beforehand (I loathe needing the hard copy of a script and my license for controlled substances!) I warned her that I’m a hot mess right now. That I hoped it would be better by Saturday but that I felt I should warn her. And her reply was so kind and sweet. Summed up it basically said not to worry about it, she is the one who is supposed to be there for me and not the other way around.

Tomorrow I only have choir practice at night. I’m so glad because I’ve been really busy the last few days and will be through Tuesday of next week. I need the time to decompress and rest a bit.

Also, courtesy of FB I learned five years ago at this time I was undergoing my third (and final) round of ECT. Four years ago I was at Sheppard Pratt. Time is odd in how it can seem so slow and so fast.

And there is probably a lot more that has been going on. I’ve been grieving a friend who used to write in this community. She popped up in my FB memories the past few days and it made me miss her. I know some of you knew her, she was known as Kyra here. But this is enough of a catch-up for now.

My final thought is that even though I think all of this sucks and is me going backwards my therapist says its progress because I’m feeling things. I wish I could see that.

 

 

Emotions are exhausting

Emotions are exhausting. I had some physical stuff this week that made me finally see at least some connection between how exhausted I sometimes am and the intensity of therapy. Learning to feel emotions, process them, and figure out how to deal with them is hard exhausting work. It doesn’t mean I can be nicer to myself about it yet, but that seed is buried in my mind somewhere. I’m also starting to see a very tiny crack in may ability to discount what other people say about me. I can throw away positive opinions of me very easily, these people aren’t in my head so how can they truly know if I did my best? Every day of my life I am in a sort of competition with myself to be better than yesterday. I have no internal barometer to figure out when I will ever be good enough for me. I will always want to be better. And I’m slowly, uneasily, starting to consider the idea that this might not be the way most people think. That maybe at some point a million years down the road this might need to change.

And then today I got some bad news about a friend. For the first time I realized I was dissociating to not feel the pain as intensely so I didn’t start crying in the laundromat. And that was odd for me. I also realized driving home when i had very fleeting minor urges of self-harm that it was another way for me to control the pain I was feeling for him. The worry and the stupid feelings of knowing I am helpless to help him. I can’t even go be with him because he lives halfway across the country. And one of the hardest things for me is situations when I have no control and when I am powerless to change things. Throw in all the new thoughts, the emotions, and I’m bloody exhausted.

I wish I could just make everything perfect for everyone.

I called my therapist because I was overwhelmed with what I realized today. And she said that while this is hard for me now these are all good things. I said it feels like I started a journey on a ship and no one told me what was going to happen. And now that the ship has set sail I can’t turn back. As much as I hate it, as terrifying as it is, I’m going to have to learn to deal with emotions and the fact that I can barely control anything.

Awesome. (sarcasm)

Wow, doing better and profound appointments

I don’t really have the ability to pace myself. I mostly go fast and faster, keeping myself too busy all the time convincing myself if I only stay busy enough I can outrun the depression. I can outrun the self-hate, the suicidal thoughts, the dissociation, the PTSD, all of it. If I just stay busy I will be ok. And this is where I’m supposed to say that it doesn’t work all that well because I usually get to a point where my body and mind give out on me because they are so exhausted and I refuse to slow down. I will win you damned body and mind if its the last thing I do. When I exercise I’m not really thinking about calories burned, though I do have weight to lose (thank you Clozaril) I’m chanting over and over in my mind endorphins, endorphins, endorphins, think of all the happy endorphins you are getting! And when my mind and body give out they tend to do so in spectacular fashion, both physically and mentally. But I can’t fully believe it doesn’t work at all. I can’t quite buy into the need for moderation and balance, no matter how much my therapist and psychiatrist try to convince me. I just keep thinking this time I can outrun it.

The iPhone has this clever little app that tracks your exercise. I am in a competition with myself. I know tomorrow I won’t beat today because I have other things to do. But if you look at the last week there is a visible graph of depression, virtually no movement all day, to um almost 6.5 miles yesterday and just over 7 miles today. I want to buy a fitness tracker band but my therapist thinks it could be a bad thing for me. And it is true that I want to outdo myself each and every day.

Yesterday was a very long day. I left my apartment at 10:30 and got home at 8:30. When I got home it was pretty much a stumble into bed because I was so far past exhausted. I saw both my therapist and psychiatrist yesterday. And my psychiatrist saw me at 7PM so both my body and my mind were spent after seeing her. She has me a bit confused and concerned though. She asked me why are you in therapy? I wrote her a long message today about that, annoyingly I can’t access the message unless she responds. It mostly says that I’m clearly not managing well on my own and so I have to hope that somehow I can find help to make things change, so she and my therapist, much as I hate it sometimes, are the people who keep lighting that stupid spark of hope even if I’m trying really hard to blow it out at the same time.

And she also asked me what my goals are in therapy because she said for the first time she thinks maybe our goals are not in alignment and she hadn’t really realized that before. I asked for clarification but we were out of time. I’m going to make myself nuts worrying about that until I see her again. In the really long message to her I explained that I don’t really know anymore what goals are realistic for me. I’ve had so many dreams dashed and lost that I’m totally unsure what is possible. And it depends too on how much control I have my mind and who is more in control at any given moment.

During therapy I said something about it astounds me that she and my psychiatrist aren’t mad at me over last week. She asked why would they be mad when I was hurting so much? And I just started to cry and said I’m not used to people understanding things when I get that scary and out of control. That I’m more used to people blaming me, threatening me with inpatient care, or, as in the case of my horrible ex-therapist, flat out dumping me and saying it was me, not her. It shouldn’t feel so scary to have people actually understand, but it is and i’m still trying to wrap my head on it.

Both of them think a lot of what is going on is I’m experiencing feelings and when they are strong intense negative feelings I get very overwhelmed. Because you know the whole feeling thing is still fairly new to me. I told my psychiatrist it was easier not to feel. That I think I prefer shutting down and numbing out over last week. I still remember carrying around the feelings list at Sheppard Pratt. At first I thought it was ridiculous, why are you giving me a list of emotions, I know how to identify feelings! Except, well, I kinda didn’t. And now that seems like barely the tip of the iceberg given how intense things are.

I started to dissociate and fade out during therapy. I got foggy and spacey, that pressure build up in my head. And I got mad at myself for it because I was coloring mandalas. I said that they had kept my more focused on Friday and I was hoping that was going to be a key thing for me. Color and stay present, easy enough. And my therapist pointed out gently that it did help but we were talking about very difficult things for me so it made sense.

My psychiatrist pointed out that I’m doing very exhausting draining deep work right now in therapy. I said I struggle to believe that. I feel like I’m not working hard enough, that if I just do it better then things will be okay. And in the end I exhaust myself. I’m supposed to try to believe them that I am working hard. Which weirdly, writing this entry out I’m somewhat starting to consider that idea. In a sense I’m pretty much turning my world upside down over and over and over. And fighting my own mind is an exhausting thing, as is trying to learn a view of myself and the world totally foreign to what I know. I never feel like anything I do is enough. I really don’t want to say this. Maybe they are right, that I should cut myself some slack. Ok. Breathe. New thought there. I don’t really know how to cut myself slack.

Maybe?

Based on the last two days I’m finally starting to hope that the 3.5 months of mostly severe depression might finally be coming to end. I thought it would change when October arrived. And i had a few days where things weren’t so hard. But due to all the things that I realized those two months, especially seeing how much my therapist and psychiatrist actually truly care about me (not in an inappropriate way) beyond what they really have to, and admitting it to them. That made this month really hard. And I know on some level it makes no sense, how could that be a bad thing? Its not a bad thing, but its a terrifying thing. Its pretty much unconditional acceptance and support, plus guidance. And I’ve never had that and never even realized it until suddenly I had it. Which is great, except it brought up so much emotion about how I’ve had to figure so many things out on my own and that has been difficult. There have been other stressors too, more family stuff, my dog was sick, I’ve been sick.

The reason I think this is different this time around is because the last two days I have had motivation and desire to do things. . . and follow through! I exercised yesterday and today. I have worked on music two days in a row. The last two days I finally cleaned up a lot of the grime and grit that has accumulated. My winter/summer clothes have been switched out. I no longer have a floor cover in tissues, dirty clothes, and dirt (parking area is dirt, it tracks in). I have clean sheets on my bed, so I’m not sleeping on a half empty mattress with dirt that got in the sheets. I cleaned out the kitchen and bathroom. I even cleaned out my car some. All that is left to do is laundry but that entails going to the laundromat and I didn’t feel like it. I also need to wash the inside of the fridge.

The messiness and dirtiness of my apartment has been bothering me but the depression made it impossible to do anything about it. I wish normal people could understand how hard basic things can be. Even showering was beyond me, it was a good week if I took two in a week. I did some grocery shopping at Aldi. I won’t hurry back but it was interesting to see what they have. Oh I did some of my awesome dot to dot book, its complex and compacted dot to dot for adults, so fun. And I watched a movie and finished a book. Its been a good day.

I normally dress for Halloween but didn’t bother this year because there was no real reason to. I live too rural to get trick or treaters.

The difference in me between now and Wednesday is beyond profound and dramatic.

Therapy went very well yesterday. I colored mandalas while I was talking to her and that helped me stay focused easier and kept me calmer. I didn’t have to fight dissociation as much. I still am amazed that my therapist and psychiatrist aren’t mad at me for the last week. They understand. I’m not used to that. We talked some about internal communication and why its such a struggle for me. I said probably art will be the best way for me to try to work with it so I think we’ll be heading in that direction. I don’t remember much of the session now. Just that I actually didn’t cry and I was coloring.

I’m still very nervous about the upcoming holidays but I’m trying not to think about it too much yet. I hope that things go smoother for awhile here.

Relief

My psychiatrist texted me and told me that I didn’t do anything wrong to mess anything up. That she and my therapist need to teach me to ride the roller coaster. And then she asked when I wanted to see her next. I responded that I still feel bad and like I did something wrong. I’m hoping I can see her next week but just knowing she understands and isn’t mad at me is really a huge weight off my mind. I still feel like she and my therapist should be mad at me and its confusing to have them not only not be mad but understand what has been going on the last week (and three months).

I can breathe now.

I also finally made it to church choir tonight for the first time in three weeks. I sang at the service last week but didn’t go to the rehearsal. I was iffy about tonight but I’m glad I went. The people I sing with are a wonderful caring bunch.