Emery spoke up. She told Dr. D about what happened outside the restroom window then read him the piece of writing we did to release anxiety concerning recent violence and past violence. She read the entire story and cried while doing so. (Here I am again sitting up after hiding my face in my hands.) Reading that story to myself is one thing but reading it out loud felt even more intense. He agreed it was an intense and emotional piece of writing. He agreed that I made the right decision to stay secured in the apartment while yelling for the people to stop fighting. He understood the trigger.
As if there aren't enough therapy assignments, I am to paint the emotional response to my brother being beaten at age three as well as my present day emotion concerning his death. In all, there are 4 paintings whose design is to help desensitize trauma.
As I type this I am still very tired and struggling to keep my eyes open. I hope this entry makes some kind of sense.
Reading the story out loud was painful and helpful. I remember thinking, dang, this story is good, too bad it's based on real events. I liked some of the imagery.
He asked if I feel suicidal. I said no. He asked about self injury impulses and I said yes but I've been watchful, proactive in preventing triggers. One major thing I do is make sure my meds aren't close to my bed. They don't sit out in the open, either. I set up each dose in a small clay bowl then put the bottles in a basket with a doll made to cover the basket. The amount of PRN's allowable are in a different little clay bowl. By my bed I have a small container of colored pencils and various kinds of markers. In general I use an x-acto knife to sharpen my pencils but I only use that blade in the studio area. By the bed I use a pencil sharpener. Doing this removes a ready to use instrument for self harm. ...continue reading
The appointment itself went well but I asked that we do more than the scant few amount so as not to stretch out these procedures. I do not need to go through this again and again. They agreed.
After the appointment I requested 5, count them, 5 pain pills to assist with extreme discomfort. I asked that those 5, low dose, pain pills be all I'm given to and would last for the this appointment and the final two. The dentist said she would ask my medical doctor if such a script was okay to give!!! Keep in mind, I'm doped from the gas so I'm not thinking clearly BUT I do know I didn't sign a release of information for her to make contact and ask him jack crap!!! So why was she able to call and talk to that office and why on earth did my doctor say NO!!!!!!!! I don't think I could add enough exclamation marks to that. My medical doctor also decided not to refill my Gabapentin script....For the second time that script has been denied. I've had to call and straighten out with the nurse that the script has been given me for a very, very long time and that I should continue to get this script!!!!!!! The first time this happened she gave me this long comment about how it was a mistake. She then provided the script. This is the second time the script has been denied. What's the mistake this time?
I'm not happy at all. I've been denied 5, count 'em 5 pain pills that were to stretch for 3 dental appointments. This is crap!!!! This is complete crap. The last pain med script I had from my GP was January 30th for 30 Vicodin 5-325's. That's what he gave me to last for three months. That's nearly 4.5 months on 30 5/325's. Man, stop playing with me. You know I can't stand you anyway!!!!!!!
I didn't get a lick of sleep last night, not a wink.
I am mad at the world right now and hungry as all get out.
What I don't like about this situation is that my dentist is part of the hospital system I go. Instead of just dealing with my dental care she is able to look into my hospital records. I don't appreciate that. This is also why I don't want a psychiatrist who is affiliated with the hospital. It gives my medical doctor access to my psychiatrist's notes.
OMG I am so mad right now I can't even see straight!!! I woke up too late to do anything about this and for some reason, the dental office is closed every Wednesday. I am so mad I can't see straight!!!!
Content: The comment option has been turned off. 11:06 pm EST a man on meth and drunk upset a child and mother. Threat of violence to the mother and child. I yelled at them as the child screamed, "Mommy. Mommy. Mommy."
If I don't get this out of my head right now I won't be in any shape to finish the remainder of my evening in peace...and I do plan on spending it peacefully.
I'm shaking inside. I was in the restroom and the window was open. I heard a child screaming and crying "Mommy. Mommy. Mommy." The child was in a lot of distress. It was an emotional call not a tantrum. He was emotional and screaming over and over, "Mommy. Mommy. Mommy." I heard the mother tell the little one to be quiet because its late and people are sleeping. (not). He quieted down a little but then a man came up and started cursing and screaming at the woman. He called her all kinds of things while the child still cried. Things got even more heated and louder and louder to where it was going to explode into violence. I know that sound just before tipping point. I know that sound!
Both parents were yelling and screaming. I couldn't see them. It was too dark. As things got heated to the point where I feared someone would get hurt I just started yelling out my window, "Stop! Stop!" I just kept repeating it. When there was a moment of silence, and I mean a moment, I yelled to them, "For the baby, please stop!" There was only a fraction of a breath before they started again. It was like they realized someone else was in their world but then they started right back up so I started yelling again. Then it was just silent so I said (I didn't yell it) I said, "For the baby, please, please stop." The man had to get in a few more words then they went their separate ways with him still running his mouth. The last insults included the stuff about him being drunk and on meth. ...continue reading
Content - Anxiety, Suicidal Ideation, obsessing, food, hatred for mother
I know I'm not just my normal anxious self, I'm dissociative and hormonal.
Not so long ago I thought to myself, I don't want to be here anymore. I want to die.
I'm obsessing over stuff.
There's a place in my house where I can mess around with soil and mud and make the worst mess ever. It looks like the carnage I feel inside, like parts of me smeared here and there in a murderous craze. (saying stuff like this may be why she won't come and get her painting or respond to communications.) After I looked at the muddy mess I didn't feel satisfied, I felt suicidal.
Take me away.
In a few hours Snow will be here. We have to go to the grocery store. I don't want to but I need to. yesterday I had the best roast beef sandwich known to man. It was roast beef, sliced tomato, cucumber, green peppers and a bit of feta dill dressing on the side. That sandwich was awesome. I purchased stuff to make the tuna sandwich I used to get from Subway. I'll have that here tomorrow at a fraction of the cost. I'm using pita bread which can be difficult to use if the ingredients are wet or you over stuff it. I put the dipping sauce on the side. I've got White American Cheese, shredded lettuce, banana peppers, bell peppers, cucumber and black olives for the mock Subway sandwich. I'm looking forward to it. I can't eat a tuna sandwich if I'm dead, right?
I've drawn sunflowers again and again and again. I draw one then turn the page and draw another. Eventually I added a girl in a field of large sunflowers. I turned the page and drew another girl in a field with large sunflowers. It felt.... necessary......authentic. I didn't feel like I was hiding anything in the art. I drew what was in my head. I know large looming flowers is a negative image for me when dealing with art therapy, but sometimes a large sunflower is just that, nothing added to it. So I drew until I felt I'd put every sunflower in my inner field on paper. Beside two single bloom sunflowers is the word 'hope'. Even though I feel suicidal or I feel like I want to run away from everything (not medically possible) I know in my heart there is hope....I do know that....
A bit nervous.
I slept most of today, exhausted from yesterday's outing, not looking forward to Friday's outing.
I woke screaming No bc my mother chased my sister and me with a knife. In a different dream my sister held me hostage, in the second dream my mother held me and my sister hostage. Just as I thought we were getting her calmed down, a roommate came home and demanded to know what was going on. Ugliness. I tried to use the phone to call for help but I wasn't able. I woke screaming no as she tried to stab me.
I cleaned up my FB page and pretty much set as much to private as possible. I've never been comfortable using that particular account to do anything other than have a place where my sister can write to me if she wants to. She's been blocked from that account since I had to close down the Sundrip Little Duck account bc I refuse to upload ID to FB. They have to be crazy to think I'd upload a photo ID to them. I have no update concerning my sister. I've not seen our mutual acquaintance again. I don't even know if she's alive bc I can't bring myself to type her name in the obituaries.
I have more dental work to do. ...continue reading
I am no longer a season ticket holder to this Nut Bowl.
I need to go back to checking the news every other week so I can regain focus. I am all but glued to three different news stations. I don't need to know every crack in the world's foundation. I already know the fabric is torn and isn't going to get better. I certainly don't need to watch each and every seam pop.
My therapy discussion and the words that follow are exactly why personal regrouping needs to take place.
In therapy today we talked about how horrible it is to see a man get away with saying the most hurtful and inflammatory things. He is destructive and vile with no consequences. His only purpose seems to be to cause upset and harm to others. He doesn't have to worry about being stabbed or shot because of his words. He's not concerned by the level of chaos and stress he causes to others. Did he seriously take out of context the words of the mayor and put it on Twitter? Did he seriously taunt gun violence advocates in the heat of the attack? Seriously? You thought that was covfefe? I wish Twitter would close his account due to inflammatory speech! If you have any concern at all for the mental health of humanity, please close President Twitler's account. At least he can't, on a whim, incite hatred, violence, anxiety and drama. ...continue reading
I posted a photo on my FB page about PTSD but later when I visited the page it linked back to, I erased it. There's probably valuable information on the page so I do not fault it for that. I removed the link because of the memes and quotes....and how they landed this hour of the night. In other words, they didn't do anything wrong......it's just hard right now. I'm ranting, anxious, triggered and tired.
I completely object to the idea of showing PTSD as pretty, the same way I am disgusted by people showing Lupus in a dreamy way. I assure you, when I'm in pain I don't think about purple butterflies with trailing light. When I'm up this late I don't think about anything other than running from the brain vomit produced by PTSD.
I've been up too long, and I'm mad....at everything. I can't get myself to go to bed. It's hot and sticky. My brain won't shut off. Why do I only think to take something for the anxiety when I'm far gone, like this?
I hate this world. I've thought recently of just walking away and living quietly in some place...who knows where......just some place. I'm weary, worn out and appalled by the human condition. I'm appalled by the lack of reason, the abundance of openly hating one another and purposeful harm in action and words. It's like there's blatant behavior to inflame and keep communities unsettled. From top to bottom people seem to want nothing more than to upset and destroy each other. It's hard to watch.
I want no part of loving anyone....or hating them. ...continue reading
I'm battling my mind and body.
I've had sporadic periods where pain has knocked me off my feet. Funny thing is, at the time I remember thinking to myself, I understand suicide. That thought would be strange if it wasn't for my brother's death being fresh on my mind. The lack of information concerning my sister weights heavily. It is also true that there are times I think I can't take another second of pain and that I'd rather be dead. Dr. D has noticed some PTSD issues associated with my chronic illness. I feel validated by that. This is traumatic. It's like my private civil war where I die every single time. There are times, like yesterday when I thought to myself, I understand suicide. ...continue reading
I haven't been to too many blogs lately, not many at all. I'm not in a good spot, easily depressed, easily triggered. I feel like I'm tightening my grip, bringing in the walls around me a little closer so as not to get too overwhelmed. I feel like a fake for smiling and laughing. I'm not a fake, it's just that there are several of us. I feel like a total boob for switching personalities left and right and forgetting to answer the door for a friend. She knocked, I peeked out the hole, looked at her and walked away. It was as if it didn't click that I should let her in. She called me to tell me she was at the door...still.
I can get through this patch.
I'm not even sure if I'm making sense.
Dissociation and anxiety will get worse as the 18th draws near. That's when the apartment manager is coming to do a semi annual cleaning inspection. I don't want to see the woman. I wish I could have someone here with me but I don't have anyone available that day. I will maybe try to have someone on the phone with me when they first get here. I need Jordan to do deal with the manager, just Jordan. ...continue reading
When it rains it pours, and I'm soaked.
Minutes before my phone session with Dr. D I was told by my cab driver that Medicaid won't pay to transport me anymore. Of course I freaked out. I then decided I wouldn't think about this until Monday. Well, as I washed dishes (big issues with water phobia) I did so while going over what the cab driver told me. The gist of it is this: Nothing with my insurance has changed. The cab driver said she got a new contract to transport for a company which is clearly a higher paying transport. For quite some time my insurance only pays for 7 miles and only pay the cab company $10 each way. That has not changed. The only thing that has changed is the contract the cab got. I understand why I'm getting booted, I just wish she hadn't said my insurance won't pay for transportation anymore, and that's exactly what she said. That makes me mad too because she went on and on about how the change has affected so many people. She said, didn't you get a letter about it? Um, no, because you know very well there isn't a letter coming. Nothing has changed except that she made a business decision to take a contract. With this in mind, I have to search high and low to find someone who is willing to take me about 10 miles one way. That won't be easy but that's what I need to do. My insurance still covers transportation.
Dr D will continue to talk to me over the phone until I find a new cab company. I hate that though. Due to health issues, I was only able to get into see him twice a month, the other sessions were over the phone. In our sessions we relied heavily on art. As I drew today it felt pointless, totally pointless!!! Art is how I speak..........
Our professional relationship includes trust, boundaries, honesty and humanity.
It took some time to building a working relationship, but in that relationship he is validating. He also calls me on my crap which is needed. He isn't usually blunt but there are times when he shows irritation followed by a blunt statement. lol....Those statements usually have to do with Betty. lol. Even a reader called me out on the Betty situation.... with one sentence. 🙂 I appreciate that he's going to be human and show irritation or even anger. I don't want a robot for a psychologist. I want a human being and I want to leave him at the office.
Boundaries are a huge thing for me. There was a therapist I had that gave me his home number, the number to his parents house and the number to the phone in his car. I had access to him almost 24 hours a day. That for me isn't good because it also means he has access to me 24 hours day. In fact, he called me one time to tell me to turn on Oprah because Rosanne Bar said she has Multiple Personality Disorder. He told me about his sex life, about his boyfriend. He called me when they broke up. He called me when they fought over the house they had together. He and I had zero boundaries, zero. After that experience I no longer trusted a therapist who wanted to give me their home number. My experience with doctor's crossing boundaries is why I need Dr. D to keep his boundaries and not get so comfortable with me that he forgets to be professional. Other patients and therapists may be able to manage out of office contact and that is just fine. I have nothing negative to say about that. I don't want it because of the horrible experiences I've had. ...continue reading