Monthly Archive for September, 2006

Page 3 of 5

Monk-E News, Beds, Therapy Etc

Published on September 19, 2006 in Dreams, Pets and Therapy. 0 Comments

A girl could really get herself in trouble this way ya know? This is too much fun.

click the pic to see a message to Luke Skywalker…

CLICK HERE to see You Are Nutty.

CLICK HERE to see The Floozy.

I got my first Monk-e-mail and I mean to tell you I laughed so hard. I spent most of the day yesterday just messing around on there putting silly words to chimps in funky clothes. This is the best way to amuse ones self when it seems like everything is just crappy and sucks big time. So, I chucked the suckiness and played with the chimps.

The therapist didn’t get my note from last Thursday, I feared he wouldn’t which is why I left a message on his voice-mail. I talked to him today and feel a lot better about what happened. I was right about one thing, this therapist is not a permanent solution I’ll eventually have to find myself a PTSD therapist who is not restrained by policy like the group he is with. It’s too bad too because this guy seems like he could do me a lot of good. I still see him but I don’t know for how long yet. The plan is the same though, take as much info as possible until my time with him is up. Heck, I’m happy I found a good one because it helped me not feel like continuing therapy was a waste of my time. I started thinking there weren’t any good therapists out there anymore, not in my town anyway. It’s good to know there are some out there…out my way. Blossom’s therapist dumped her in the second session. I can not believe that!!! My goodness that is crap. She told her to go to a different center because she needed more help than she could give plus she wasn’t in an abusive relationship right now. Well, that center is a women’s center they deal with abuse and domestic violence. I am so pissed that I can’t see straight! She’s at home just all torn up. Lord!

I have a new pallet that I sleep on now. Cap has had a new bed but I’ve stolen it. I pulled Alpha rank and took his jumbo size bed. I seem to sleep well on it. I think it’s because during the day he sleeps on it and at night I do. It feels all Cappy safe and everything. It’s long enough to stretch out on without my feet hanging over it. It’s one of those cushions that goes over the top of a mattress to soften it. I folded it in half and stuffed it inside a sleeping back for his bed. Then I took a nap beside him from there I just stole it. That’s okay though. Countless times I’ve gotten up freezing in the middle of the night because Cap pulled the covers off, snatched the pillow and took them to the living room to snooze! So, me taking his bed at night is fair play. The boy is silly. He doesn’t get under them or anything, he bunches them up and plops on top with his head on my stolen pillow. Now that I think about it Cap steals a lot. He takes berries and grapes when he thinks I’m not looking and he waits for me to fall asleep to snatch the covers. Hmm! A doggie therapist might be in order. I’ve had fewer nightmares in his bed.

Ah, that reminds me. One time the mother asked me if Cap has doggie personalities. I told her no, I don’t abuse my dog. Heck, it’s the only way to get DID and hell no I don’t abuse my dog. She didnt find the humor in my reply the same as I didnt find the humor in her comment. Bitch! She met Cap a few times. He wasn’t too thrilled with her, kept his distance, stayed close to me. He’s a good judge of character I’d say.

Joan of Arc

I dont know

Published on September 16, 2006 in Dreams and Mental Health. 4 Comments

I don’t know what my fuckin problem is but I can’t get myself to go to bed. Last nights dreams were typical so why am I so worried about climbing in the bed? I had to stop sleeping on the love seat because I developed back and neck problems. Great! I was sleeping but my back was killing me. I suppose I can make a little nest thing on the floor. Damn, I keep thinking if I can cut just a little bit I can maybe bring myself to climb in bed. I could take a trazadone. It sounds so easy, walk over to the bottle and take one and go to sleep. I had a dream about a typical tornado turning into balls of fire that destroyed my apartment building and killed a ton of people save the ones that should have died. I was under concrete blocks and protected from falling glass and bricks that came off the wall as the building fell.

It’s been about a week or so since medication. no money to get em, lovely. i feel like shit. I have trazadone but I dont have zoloft or wellbutrin and that’s what i’m supposed to be on. the traz was dropped so long ago but i have a few of those left. they were supposed to help me sleep. Damn, I wish that sofa thing had worked out. It’s a loveseat so it’s too small and i’m all bent out of shape sleeping on it. Damn, damn, damn. It seemed like I was getting ahold of the nightmares.

Blossom suggested going to the chiropractor. I told her the timing is bad. She asked if it was about money I said no, its about scheduling to be touched several times a week in the middle of some heavy shit in therapy. Uh, no, I can’t go and be touched 3 times a week AND do therapy. Shit lets skip all that and just shoot me now cause I can really see stuff getting out of hand if I did that. Dont fuckin touch me when I’m like this now damn. She didnt get it but really she doesn’t have to. To her it seems so simple. you go to the doc if you’re in pain like this. To me, its so simple, you don’t risk taking your own life if you can stand the pain a bit longer until you’re stable enough to be able to handle someone touching you 3 times a fuckin week. That seems simple to me.

whatever

Destiny

Pit Bulls, Rottweilers, Morals and Money

Published on September 15, 2006 in For the Record, Pets and Soapbox. 6 Comments

Pit bulls, Rottweilers, Morals and Money-Friday, September 15, 2006-4:04PM EST

Awhile back there was a toddler mauled by a pit. The pit had bitten several people and was known to be vicious. People didn’t report it for fear of retaliation from the owners. Would their own dog be targeted for poisoning or be shot because they called and reported that pit bull? This is the question I grappled with earlier today when trying to decide if I would report being rushed by two pits. Those neighbors didn’t report being bitten and now child pays for their inability to speak up. The little girl was touch-and-go for a long time but she made it, not without permanent facial scars and mounds of medical bills for her mother to pay. The mother had her baby in a stroller and that pit came out of the house and attacked the child without provocation. Fortunately she was taken care of at Riley Hospital and will be able to have a full life.

Since that attack the mayor has been trying to pass laws specific to pits but some say that won’t solve the problem. I believe that an individual pet can be a good one but if a specific breed does more damage than other breeds why not stand up and take note instead of saying, hey my dog wouldn’t harm anyone so don’t try and put restrictions on his breed. That’s stupid, especially when we’re not talking about their individual dog, we’re talking about statistics that prove that pits and rotts have a greater potential to kill than other dogs Even though there are 30 different breeds of dogs known to bite it is Pits and Rotts that are most known for killing their victims and that is why people focus on laws for those breeds. As most understand it a dog is as nice as he is treated but that is not accurate. You have to communicate and relate to a dog on his or her level and if the dog does not realize that humans are the alpha then that dog can and will bite. If the dog is mistreated he’ll bite. If the dog is bred incorrectly he may be more prone to biting. There is more to bite problems than simply the breed but it can’t be ignored that dogs most likely to kill when they bite are pits and Rotts. So the temperment of an individual pet has nothing to do with the damage that breed can do because of its physical power. “Your nice dog” isn’t my concern, it’s the one’s that contribute to the dog bite epidemic and rising dog homicide stats.

Today when Cap and I went on our routine walk by the golf course a pit with no tags, no collar, no leash, and no identifying information came bolting across a 4 busy street to get to me and Captain. That street is 4 lanes wide, two in each direction and she almost didn’t make it across the street. She almost got hit twice. Truthfully, I prayed immediately that the dog didn’t make it across the street. I didn’t want my dog to have to fight another dog but especially a pit bull. The damage they can do is horrible so no, I didn’t want my dog who had a good 80 lbs and a good 6 or 7 inches on that dog to have to fight her jaws. Yeah, Cap is strong and yeah he can be fierce when needed but my goodness there is always someone that can whip your ass. I don’t like the odds of a pit and a lab/Dane mix. Those are NOT good odds, I’m just sayin’…I’m just sayin’….sheshhh!!!

When my prayers for his death were unanswered and the dog came up to me and Cap I kicked into the same mode I did that one time at the dog park when a Husky attacked me. Fortunately Cap listened to me. He was quite good but this dog put his head down low and growled. I backed away slowly and told her “No” in a deep voice. She came closer and closer so I stopped moving backwards in kind of a bluff. She stopped moving but kept her head low and was in attack mode. Her owner came out and yelled to me to get a hold of her dog and hold her until I got there. I swear my voice went up 6 octaves. I said, “What? Are you serious?” She was pissed because I wouldn’t hold her vicious pit bull. What? So she starts telling the dog to stay so she could come across the street and get him. I didn’t move until the dog disobeyed her and crossed 4 lanes of traffic once again. That is when Cap and I started the walk home. She called me all kinds of bitches for letting her dog go across the street like that. By this time a golfer came up and said, boy its always the responsibility of someone else to take care of what we should do for ourselves. I said, uh yeah like I really was going to hold her damn pit bull until she got here. I was supposed to forget that either my dog or I were about to need medical attention! I don’t think so. Cap and I came home. I thought I’d should make a report but I worried that since I live so close to her maybe she would toss some poisonous food in the yard or something. I realized why it is that people don’t report dog bites, they fear retaliation. But then I thought about how this little girl will never look the same because a pit tried to remove her face. I went and got the woman’s address and made a report to animal control. I added the fact that this house also serves as a day care center! The lady at the Mayor’s Action Center gasped and said that in itself is against the law.

This same woman had a garage sale the other day and I talked to her for a bit about her pits. She said one wants to kill her sisters little dog. She told me about how hard it was to get the dog calmed down at times. Maybe she didn’t recognize me as she told me to hold this same dog until she got across the street. Ah, yeah, let me help you mame, let me make sure your vicious dog gets back home safely. Well, I made the report. The dog may not have ever bitten anyone before and today might have been a fluke, I don’t know. But to let it go could have possibly been repeating the mistakes of the neighbors who didn’t report the dog that mauled the toddler here recently. I’d rather piss her off this once then to know I could have said something before someone really gets hurt. So I made the report.

More Does Not Mean Moral

The mother of the toddler that was mauled recently said dog bites happen in all kinds of neighborhoods, good, bad, poor or affluent. I appreciated that statement because when people think about vicious pits they think of drug filled neighborhoods with gangs and crackheads hanging out. Let me be blunt, they think of poor black neighborhoods. The woman that has the pit that darted out after me and Cap lives in a very a nice house. The yard is well kept and it fits right in with the other houses in this area but money can’t buy morality, personal accountability or common sense. You either have a good sense of right and wrong or you don’t.

I swear I had this conversation with Dr. B yesterday. We talked about my neighborhood. On the outside it looks like a nice little suburb with cookie cutter houses, manicured lawns and a nice golf course across the street. The kids here are not in public schools, they have the latest gadgets and all of that. On the outside this neighborhood looks like the ideal place to raise a family, not too stuffy but not rough like the inner city. Blossom doesn’t think she needs to lock her car doors when she comes here. It just gets me when people make assumptions based on appearances. For Dr. B I tried to point out that despite the drug activity in this neighborhood it’s not a slum, it’s not a ghetto in any sense of the word but it’s not picture perfect if you get up close and really look. For Blossom I tried to tell her that the look of the houses, the look of the cars and the material things she saw around her didn’t speak for their morality. Their belongings do not make them “good and honest people.” This is a professional neighborhood where one man spends so much time at work that he has no idea his wife smokes weed all day and leaves the 4 year old to fend for herself. You’d never think that was going on when you see her outside washing off that brand new fully equipped motor home or the sharp truck they just got. The successful baker next to them is a wife beater but you’d never think that when you see their house and their family. The man next door is a pot head but you’d never think it if when they drive down the street in their very nice vehicle. When you see him work on sculptures he chisels out and sells to some of the largest catholic churches in the city no one stops to think, oh I bet he’s on drugs. His potter’s wheel spins out very nice vessels and brings in a good amount of money but he can not buy morality with it, not enough to keep him from being a jackass and drug addict. Is all of this hidden or excusable because their houses are nice and their income is higher than others in this city? No, I don’t think so. People who seem to think more means moral do so with dangerous naivety. When violence comes to nicely presented neighborhood then residents are shocked because that sort of thing doesn’t happen where they live. Where you have people you have crime. Sometimes neighborhoods hide their real face better than others, mine certainly does.

Austin’s August

Dr. B’s Secretary- Boundary Issues Etc

Published on September 14, 2006 in Mental Health and Therapy. 2 Comments

Just Me-Thursday, September 14, 2006-11:13PM

At least I didn’t. At least this time I knew my actions would only cause some sort of snowball effect. I’d have to keep doing it to keep feeling like I was hurting myself. It’s like cutting, I have to keep cutting. That doesn’t make sense. I resent her.

So I went to therapy and the session went just fine until the end. She was late picking me up so I went up to call for her to come get me. While I waited I had a short conversation with the secretary which didn’t go over well. I found out that she reads the journal from time to time so there is a chance she will read this. If you do sorry but regardless of who reads I have to be able to say what I need to say. When I talked to the secretary she said something about how Dr. B was upset that I’m scheduled for the next 6 weeks when the policy is that patients can only schedule two sessions at a time. He didn’t set that policy but he does have to go by it. The secretary (because she likes Captain) was making sure I had a weekly appointment. Well, the conversation I had with her was enough to plant doubt in my mind as to Dr. B’s willingness to help or treat me. I don’t know. No, she didn’t intend to do that but what she said planted doubt and I didn’t need that. I don’t think the secretary has professional boundaries at all. I know way too much about her private life, stuff I shouldn’t know. It makes me wonder how many people she talks to about clients when she isn’t at work. It makes me wonder how many people hear about me without me willingly offering up information, without me having a choice in the matter. On the net I decide what is revealed and what it kept quiet. I decide what I will publish out there for anyone and everyone to read. IF she’s has such terrible professional boundaries at work how in tact are they outside of work? What does confidentiality mean to her?

I remember that when I left the session I felt really strong but right now I couldn’t give one detail about the session, just that I felt strong when leaving. Right now my head is going around and around trying to figure out what is actually happening and what is fear based on the past. I just don’t know. I left him a note to call me but I don’t even know if he got it. He was in a session when I left the note. I sealed it in a blue envelope and gave it to the secretary to give to him. I asked him to call me. I haven’t heard from him. I got out of therapy at 2pm. I hope he calls tomorrow. Heck, I’m calling him tomorrow because I want to ask him if …… I don’t know.

Me

Control-Vulnerability Therapy Discussion

Published on September 13, 2006 in Dissociative Identity Disorder, Mental Health, Therapy and Therapy Assignments. 1 Comment

Control-Vulnerability Therapy Discussion-
13 September 2006-Wednesday-9:11PM

This is kind of jumbled up but the basic premise is that for me control has more to do with my emotions than it does with interpersonal communication.

I say I feel out of control, like I’m going to lose it. You say that when I’m able to set boundaries for myself that I show a lot of control. Over the past few weeks I’ve figured out that our definition of control is different.

Yes, I can usually set limits. I can usually stand up for myself. I can usually be assertive when I need to be. I think that is what you mean when you say that I have more control than I think. When I say I feel out of control I mean that what I feel is overpowering. The depression, the flashbacks, the nightmares seem to consume me at times. My reaction to triggers isn’t so concealed anymore and I don’t like that at all. Vulnerability is not my strong suit.

Not showing emotion or showing emotion at the right time in the right amounts is what got me through living with the mother. No matter what happened you never were to act shocked. It didn’t matter what you saw you just didn’t freak out, you didn’t panic, and you didn’t express dismay or show any signs of being effected by it. You just went on like nothing ever happened. When my uncle shot me in the foot the mother held me while my white shoe turned red but we didn’t ever talk about it again. We did not go to the hospital to have it looked at. Thank goodness (???) it went through my toe and didn’t cause major blood loss that put my life in jeopardy. When my aunt beat my cousin with 100 lashes we went on as if nothing ever happened. We could hear her in the other room and then she stopped screaming. I wasn’t sure if she was dead or alive but I never showed it. I never looked offended, frightened or concerned and that is how I kept myself from getting 100 lashes. By the way, 100 is not an exaggeration. As a matter of fact it was more. I stopped counting at 100 because my mother and sister and I left to go to the Quickie Mart. When we returned the aunt was done. I did not show fear unless that was the response the mother was looking for. I did not cry unless that was the response the mother was looking for. As a matter of fact, I didn’t laugh unless that was what the mother wanted. I gave good conversation when she wanted it, humor when she wanted it, tears when she craved it. Somehow I took pride in knowing just what to do and how to read her. I knew how to second guess her and I tried to stay one step ahead of her. It was almost a challenge, something to live for. That was control of my emotions, being able to respond as required. Now, I respond as anyone else would and that is unfamiliar territory for me.

I do not know how to second guess the people I see daily or the roommate that I live with. I don’t know what is expected of me. I often do not know if my behavior is in response to current issues or past occurrences. Confusion is a major part of my day. I use to stay one step ahead and it was rare that I was caught off guard. Now, my emotional responses aren’t planned, they’re automatic. That lack of emotional control scares me.

Another thing I mean about control is how I’m affected by the PTSD symptoms. When I can’t get certain thoughts out of my head, when I can’t make the dreams stop, when I can’t eat enough to fill this emptiness it makes me feel like I’m open to every possible ….I don’t know the word I’m looking for….iIt makes me feel like I don’t have a choice in what my mind does. I can’t start or stop it. When it comes to other people I know very well I can tell them to get lost. I can set boundaries; I can be assertive without kicking into that aggressive mode. So that isn’t what I mean when I say I feel out of control. When I say I feel out of control I mean that the symptoms of PTSD seem so strong that they pull me under and suffocate me. I mean that depression grips me and doesn’t let go. I laugh when I want to cry. I laugh and chat when I want to scream. I talk and walk when all I really want to do is curl up and stop existing. The person you see in your office is not the person that I am at home. There are so many private shame behaviors at home that therapists and psychiatrist never see. Those are the things that weigh me down and keep my tonge tied but allow it to open up and laugh.

Vulnerability is not my strong suit. Sometimes i stay home because I know full well that my trigger responses are not within my control. I don’t want to show in public just how much afraid I am of living. I don’t want the public to see me look over my shoulder to figure out if my mother or my uncle or my sister is going to come out of nowhere and call me by that name they gave me at birth. God forbid they should try and hug me. I shutter at the thought. My level of fear is out of control. It keeps me at home when I could be out enjoying the day. The longer I stay in the house the harder it is to leave and the more I depend upon Captain to help me leave.

About DID and dissociation:

You asked me how much I know about it. I was fortunate enough to be diagnosed by Dr. E. Bowman at Indiana University back in 1990. Anything she had questions about I’m sure she could ask her hubby Dr. P. Coons. She has a lot of info. Early on I had really good therapists so I learned quite a bit about dissociation, about triggers, red flags, why the mind splits, why people dissociate, what depersonalization is and all of that. I think I have a pretty good understanding of my disorder. Most of all I have a pretty good understanding of how I function with DID. I’ve done more DID work than I have PTSD work which is why I totally agree that right now the main problem is PTSD and not DID. When I asked you what you thought about the dx you scared the crap out of me when you beat around the bush and tip toes around actually saying “yes, I think you have DID.” At home I thought about it. No, you didn’t say “I think you have DID” but you also didn’t say “I think you’re faking.” That is the answer most important to me. One thing I know for sure is that my story has not changed. I know for certain that the details I give today are in agreement with the details in my file if they even recorded them. Even though I know it’s true I still need to be believed by someone else.

I think you’ve said a few things that were empowering and very validating. I think some of the most basic things a person could say have gotten an “are you serious response.” When you said that it’s okay that I still struggle with abuse issues my response was “are you serious?” I thought you were mocking me at first. I thought you were looking for a response like, “yes, I’m handling things poorly” so you could say, “you’ve got to stop living in the past.” I thought it was a test Dr. B. Later I realized it wasn’t. When I hear you say the most basic things like, “you are human” or “I guess you are tired with what you’ve been through” my brain kinda skips a beat. I think to myself, is he serious? But you haven’t followed any of that up with, stop feeling sorry for yourself and let the past stay in the past. I’ve figured out that you’re not waiting for me to say, yes I’m tired so that you can jump me with how much I’m letting the mother control my current life. You have not told me that I have coping skills and that I’m strong and I can do this. I hate that Dr. B. I know I have coping skills. I know I have strengths but sometimes I just need someone to hear me say that I’m tired. I think you actually hear me say that. It’s a relief. Yeah, I grasp a lot about DID but it’s the small things that get looked over and the small but profound truths that stick in my head.

I’ve got the intellectual part of understanding abuse. I do not have the emotional part of it. I know there was nothing I could do to stop that woman. I still feel guilty. I know that the history of abuse is 6 generations strong. I still feel guilty. I know that my mother was out of control. I know that my mother is responsible for what she did. I know that these symptoms are typical for what I’ve been through. I still feel weak. I know how to recognize the symptoms and I can usually keep my head above water but I still feel weak. I have an intellectual understanding but I’m still emotionally on auto pilot. Auto pilot is not the same as flying. I’m not flying.

That’s all.
Austin

Doggy Knows Best

Published on September 12, 2006 in Dissociative Identity Disorder and Pets. 2 Comments

Doggy Knows Best- Tuesday, September 12, 2006-9:20AM EST

 

Cappy Crunch is well trained and is rarely a “bad boy.” He is trained well enough to go get medication for me, to open the door and let the EMT’s in if my heart decides to get wild on me. He can go get meds as well as get a bottle of water that sits in one spot so that I can wash the meds down. When I dissociate outside the home and I can’t get myself grounded before things get too out of hand I clip him to my belt. Since I don’t go far from home on foot I can be sure that as long as I have Cap with me I can find my way back home. If I tell him to “find home” he can do it from up to 4 blocks away. I get home safely that way.

A very long time ago when things were more messed up than now, when switching wasn’t even close to being controlled Cap would plant himself in front of the door and refuse to let me leave. He would do this on days when I was just not safe enough to leave the house. When I say safe enough I mean that I couldn’t keep an adult alter forward. Letting my littles out of the house even with Cap is like letting a 6 or 7 year old child leave the house unattended. Kids, no matter how well behaved they are, no matter how mannerly they are still fall to kid type behaviors. Kids will walk down streets or in the street where it’s not safe to walk. Kids will be distracted by this that and the other and end up playing with something or someone they shouldn’t be playing with. Kids are kids and they do kid type stuff and that is not always the safest thing. So, there were times in the past when I could not get myself grounded enough to leave the house so he planted himself right in front of the door and refused to move. I gave the command repeatedly to move but he wouldn’t. It took a bit to register that Cap does not disobey direct orders for nothing. So when he does I have to remember that he’s doing it for a reason. So, on those days I called whatever doc I was going to see and let them know that “Cap says I can’t leave today.” It’s always funny to word it that way. My dog says I should stay home.

One time when I lived at that Crackhead Mansion I was freaking out something horrible. I went down to a friend’s house to hang out but I still couldn’t get myself together. I was still talking to the mother back then so things were quite different than now. Well, at her house I was struggling so much that Cap got up on the lazy boy chair and stretched his entire body across mine and stayed until I calmed down. I wasn’t thrashing about or foaming at the mouth or anything Hollywood might show on TV as to how someone with DID might react during a flashback. But my anxiety level was very high and staying in the present was difficult. He laid on me until he felt I was okay enough for him to get down.

I sometimes forget that between the two of us he knows me the best. I forget that he’s been trained since 6 weeks old to recognize behaviors, to smell the chemical changes that are associated with anxiety and what not. I forget that he knows more about my emotions than I do because he is standing off where as I am right in the middle of it. I’ve not had the amount of years he has had to recognize changes in my behavior. How is it that my dog knows more about my emotional state than I do? I just started recognizing feeling and behavioral changes about 5 years ago. He has been smelling anxiety in humans since he was 6 weeks old. I’ve been running from stuff but he’s been on its trail since he was potty trained at 8 weeks. So yeah, he knows more about recognizing anxiety than I do because he can smell the chemical change. How he knows the difference between me or Morton, me or Destiny or Maureen or Robert is beyond me but he does. With the more meek alters he is always right on the mark. He doesn’t skip a beat but with Destiny he doesn’t listen and runs all over her. With the kids he can score biscuits and he knows it. He and Morton have a good relationship. They are good buddies, which surprised Blossom because she expects Cap to be all scared and what not of Morton. Nope, he and Morton get along very, very well. He doesn’t skip a beat with Morton at all but not out of fear but out of respect for the alpha position. He knows nothing at all about our chain of command but he does understand the alpha position. He knows it’s not him when certain alters are out. With Destiny though he just doesn’t listen. He does what he wants to do. he tries her so hard. He watches the kids like a hawk but he also tries to score biscuits as much as he can. One time when a little one was playing with a lighter he sat and barked in her face until I came back out and put the lighter up. The boy knows when to manipulate and when to get back to work. I don’t call him Captain My Captain for nothing.

Last night, instead of being irritated with his hyper behavior I laid on the floor with him and did some deep breathing. When I stopped my relaxation techniques and my leg started jumping he would sit straight up and pant and get all excited again. I’d start the deep breathing and in a few seconds (maybe 20 to 30 sec) he would lay back down beside me. I knew for sure then that his hyper behavior is linked to my anxiety and my anger levels. The thing is, last night I felt like I got to return one small favor compared to his hundreds that he has given the last 6 years. He turns 7 October 1st. Last night was all about keeping Cap comfortable. When I did the deep breathing it calmed him down, it gave him some relief. I lay right beside him on the floor, in his safe spot and as long as I kept myself together he was able to rest and get comfortable. I knew he was okay when I woke up this morning and he was not jumping about and panting like it was 100 degrees inside the house.

It’s wild just how much he is in tune with me. I sometimes forget that he sometimes the dog knows best. I forget to find possible links to my behavior when there are radical changes in his. I suppose my human “nose” sometimes misses red flag issues and doesn’t pick up on things as quickly as his does. I forget to step outside my little world and pay attention to him. I knew he was getting enough exercise because I walk that boy twice a day and he goes with me when I leave the house. I knew there really was no “real reason” for him to be so out of control. Finally I stepped back and saw that it wasn’t him out of control it was me and he mirrored the intensity of my anxiety and anger with energy and puppy like behaviors. I gotta remember to listen when my pup pants because most of the time he’s right on point.

 

 

A general search results for Psychiatric Task Dog will yield these links and more.

www.psychdog.org/tasks.html

www.iaadp.org/A-dogWorld.html

www.answers.com/topic/psychiatric-service-dog

bipolar.about.com/od/disability/a/servicedogs.htm – Service dogs for Bipolar Disorder

 

gotta run, it’s Blossom’s first day of therapy and I’m tagging along for moral support.

Austin

My Reply – Billie and Limbic Susie

Published on September 11, 2006 in For the Record. 2 Comments

My Reply to Billie of JAGA and Limbic Susie Therapist

JAGA -Billie there is no way I’d edit your comment. When I saw the word Dude I knew exactly who was talking. It’s been awhile since I talked to you so I was quite thrilled to see your name show up. The reason the comment went into moderation before showing up is because WordPress tags longer comments and pops them in moderation or anything with the f-word in it goes to moderation. Not that I’m opposed to that word, I use it often. But sometimes I get stuff from people that are not trying to be supportive. When they use that word or any form of it the comment goes into mod. I’ve kept a few unsavory/abusive comments from appearing because of it. So, no worries, sailor like speech is welcome here but WordPress may toss it in moderation first. I’ll get to it though. LOL. The good thing about WordPress is you can ban people by simply adding their name to the blacklisted words section. Gotta love it! I like the moderation system here but nope, we were’nt moderating you guys.

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I have to stick up for my therapist though. He is a good therapist but he is not trained in working with DID. The truth is, we aren’t working on DID issues. We’re working on PTSD issues and that is what he specializes in. My biggest issues are not the DID. I told him that myself but it was still important for me to know what his thoughts were on the dx. I know he recognizes it as a legit dx but he never said he thinks I have it. The good thing is, from his comments I can get what it was I needed. He doesn’t think I’m faking and that is what I needed to know.

LimbicSusie said that sometimes his comments to me are lame. I know they sound that way but you might be surprised how a simple “you are human” means so much to someone who really doesn’t feel human most of the time. When he says to me, “you’re an adult now” that means a lot. It’s simple and perhaps lame to others who have been able to grasp that concept but for me that simple truth is profound. The other day in therapy when it seemed we were playing tug of war I’m not sure if it was me or him so I’m putting it in the “mystery” file along with trying to figure out the dx of the person who chose the pattern for his office furniture. Clearly the designer is colour blind but there is something else going on there. I don’t know so I have to file it under “mystery”. There are a few things in the mystery file but that’s an entry for another time.

I don’t mean to sound like I’m slamming you guys for saying Dr. B isn’t good with DID. I recognize the expression of support. I just wanted to point out that since we have been in therapy for DID for so long the DID is not my primary focus its PTSD that has me by the horns now. He said there is no way I could just suddenly be cured from the dx of DID. He also said that reading my past records and listening to me talk the dx is quite fitting. I just noticed that he would tip-toe around words like DID and multiple so I figured I’d just flat out ask him. While his answer at first was troubling the truth is, I got what I was looking for. He doesn’t think I’m faking. I’ve been seeing him since May and only recently has it been once a week so no, we don’t know each other that well. But one thing is for sure, he knows what he’s doing when it comes to PTSD. He listens to me and he dispels all the stuff I hear from professionals and lay persons. The therapist that I had at the medical center (lord, now that was a trip) she caused more inner turmoil than one could imagine. She kept telling me how strong I am. She wasn’t listening. The other day when I told Dr. B that I’m tired his reply was, “with what you’ve been through I guess you are tired.” Comments like that catch me off guard because usually I’d get a response about my coping skills and how I’ve come this far I can keep going, blah, blah, blah. He validated me, period! I appreciated that. There has never, ever been a therapist that I took a notepad with me to jotted down things they’ve said. They are usually just a source of irritation for me but I think I got lucky this time. So, for however long it lasts I plan to milk it for all its worth. I plan to glean until there is nothing more to learn. I will suck the life out of this therapist if it means getting better ‘cause you know what? I can not continue to live at this level of pain. It is as simple as that.

So, while this guy is not perfect he does seem to know how to treat PTSD and that is the primary focus of my treatment at this time. His knowledge of DID is irrelevant for the most part.

Again, I don’t mean to slam you guys for talking about his inability to treat DID. I just wanted to point out that we are not working on DID issues; we’re working on PTSD issues. We’re working on nightmares, flashbacks, avoidance issues, trust and things like that. I figure we’ll go through growing pains like any other therapeutic relationship but it is my hope that as we work together longer those pains will be less often.

BTW..when Dr. B asked if Blossom was a willing participant in our little fling that shocked the hell out of me. That was, in the words of Tommy Lee, sauted in wrong sauce. What the heck do people take me for anyway? Goodness!

Thanks again,

Austin

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