At this moment.

Something in me wants to give therapy another try… but that is at this moment. When tomorrow comes, even the thought of it may me, us, in knots. I am not even sure what it is that I want therapy to give me.

Well, maybe it’s not so much, what it will give me, but what it might take away,…the flashbacks, body memories,..nightmares and so on. You would think, that, in its self would be a good enough reason to start therapy again. Yet, I don’t know what is worse dealing with the PTSD, or dealing with what else might be hidden away from “me”. We will find out tomorrow, for now today is more than enough.

Child in the corner

My throat pain/spasms, had gotten so bad,that I was panicking.I tried everything, masagging my throat, cold and hot drinks  food,even extra pain medication, but nothing helped,not even a little.So I went to by wonderful chronic pain sites, and desperate asked for help, ideas, or just let me know I was heard. The pain did  not live me aline  When Sara, came online I  tried my hardest to not say anything about it to her.and for awhile, I didn’t. But Sara being Sara, knew something was wrong. Sara told them they could talk to her, that it was ok and that she believed them(I had such a thorn in my side when she would say this.) But nothing helped. After Sara signed off.Things only got worse… I had maybe an hours sleep, and I was switching like mad, Holly, was around, why I don’t know.

The next Morning I did something I never do. I called the therapist’s office to see if I could get in the same day. I knew, if I didn’t, I would not live through the day, because my throat had started again before my morning coffee.Luckily, she had an opening…But I had no idea, what was about to happen…

I was so desperate, By this point, I had to try anything..anything.

So this time when she asked me how did I want to use the time, I said would you be shocked if this time I had an answer?…   I said this might go easier if you would do me a favor and give me a pen and paper, she did. Because by this point, it was difficult to talk.    and so I told her of the night before. And she asked me, are you ready to entertain the idea, this all may be an insider trying to show you what happened? I don’t remember` my response. But so it began.

She asked me if If I knew any thing about this part,But I had been getting nothing at all. So she asked me if I could turn around and look inside and see who it was. I have never done this before, not ever, and to be honest I didn’t think I could do it or that I would see anything,But I did. I turned and saw a little girl, facing the corner. B asked me if I would be able to walk toward her? I couldn’t, told B there was something in my way, but didn’t see anything. Then be told the little girl she was safe there, and he was dead, That no one was going to hurt her. That it was ok to tell now what happened to her, the B would believe her. Silence. I told B that she could not talk. “Push the note pad where she can reach it..see ff she will write it down,,,nothing…”can you write down what happened..I promise what is said here, stays here…still nothing..can you use  her hand to draw it?..its ok..its ok drawing isn’t talking…you can draw it…its ok.B says other things I don?t remember…and she starts to draw…. draw as a small child would. Drawing a man standing over her, putting his penis in her mouth…

after this..I could say nothing..I know B asked me if I saw what she drew,and asked me if I could look at what she drew And as B is handing me this…all I kept thinking was I really don’t want to see this, do this, but something I can’t explain, either because I was in the movement or just could not stop my self. But I looked at it.and said dads shouldn’t do that to their little girls, and he was an adult She, said (and other things I cant remember),don’t call her a liar.  I can not tell you exactly the things going through my head, but I do know now I do not have the urge to break down, and be like oh no..or maybe I am, Be cause this is hard. B comes over to me, puts her hand on my shoulder..tells me “I told her to rest now, to nap, I told her we would protect her,  can you be an all in this?”  You know if you start doubting her, calling her a liar, all of it will come back, and you need to check on her through out the day.. all along I  have not really said but a few words. After I left..all I wanted to do was take off, anything but not go home, stay in town there, but not go home. So called sister asked her do you need me home now..”no why, cause I feel like just staying up her, then how will you get home?..” she was write I had no way home other then the medical transport wheelchair van that brought me..so home I went…sigh.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     

Fears of other people..

It never goes how i plan, therapy that is, I wanted so bad for today to be about saying thank you to B, to show her I remember all the wonderful things she has done for me, all the times she always called me back or all the times she put up with such crap from me.Yes I know the crap part is suppose to go with the job, but that does not mean she can’t choose to discontinue seeing me, she never has.

No, even though she always has let me talk about anything I wish, today did not go the way I so wanted it to. Instead today was me saying all the craziness that is going on, like the hullisanations, or the flashbacks that I physically feel like I am back at the house I grew up in, I can feel the same floor, see the same furnature, see every minuet detail clear as day.  Or get flashes of pictures, snapshots if you will. To wish she tells me partly, that the hullusinations, is probably so bad right now  because I am in her words starving myself, and everything I am telling her is what disocitve depressed people go through. And that she is worried, very worried that either through cutting, or me getting an infection I am going to self distruct. That she is most worried that because of starvation, that I am going to be able to function even less because of a seriouse illness. That she still thinks I am very depressed and she still thinks I need to eat and take the anti depressents. That she thinks I have taken the place of my father by being abusive to myself. At that all I could do was chuckle because I had “James” inside talking, And I told her about the time I called and we were talking about something and she said it sounds like this part has learned this from your father,( she missed the mark here) that he is taking his place. So now this part thought it would be funny since she said that to take my dads name. So in  effect to this part, she gave him his name.

I don’t know how to judge how I feel about this session on the one hand, I am fustrated, that it did not go the way I wanted, because I feel this may have been the last   time I will see her. Yet on the other hand, I feel some comfort.

As I set here, I don’t know how to feel…butI am greatful to her. You know when I was getting ready to leave for this appointment I had several things in my pouch that hangs on the side of my wheelchair, one of those things was an old journal. 2003 I think. You see I write or I use to write poetry and scatterd journals, over the years, and I had taken them into her, and left them there for years, and everytime I would get a new writing, or start a new journal I would bring it in. I have been cleaning out my closet, and throwing things away and went through these writtings, and found one journal that stood out. This is the jounal I took today. I am not sure how we got on the subjet of my writings (because when I took those out of her office I told her they would be no more that was a bout a year or more ago ant there has not been anymore.) But she asked me how I felt about them and I told her I cant believe how bad they really are. And she replied I never thought they were bad (i ask her last week why she didnt tell me how bad they were) She sai they were all so different, most were of childern, talking in a childs way, of hurt children. But they were all so diffrent, meaning different parts.

As I have been reading through this journal I am having a harder time, even more then usual believing any of it. Believing any thing they wrote to me, it is all attention getting..But in this journal what is most valuable to me is, her reponses. I and they had ask her questions at times and she was good enough to respond, those is what I want to take away from this journal, that she cared enough, thought it was important enough to answer them> I may not agree with her answers, but that is not the point at this moment. That she cared enough to bother is.