I thought to myself, I’m such a moron. I can’t even keep my head straight and get one sentence out without stuttering or switching. This poor man is probably holding 10 different conversations. No wonder he doesn’t know what I’m talking about half the time cause half the time I’m switching so fast that I can’t keep up with myself. I feel bad for him sometimes having me as a client.
We were supposed to talk about the flashbacks I’ve been having but I freaked out and did the revolving door thing. I wonder if he’s going to tell me I babble too much and it frustrates him so it would be better if someone else tried to treat me. Part of me says that’s ridiculous but another part worries he’ll eventually get fed up with the revolving door thing. I guess too he doesn’t always know when I’ve switched so maybe he’s not as frustrated as I think he is or maybe I’m just worried because I know how messed up I feel and how hopeless I feel at times.
I should write some stuff about that stupid flashback just so he has some idea as to what’s going on in my head. Lord knows when I try to say it I only get a few words out then switch, get a few words out then switch again. I feel so stupid sometimes. I don’t know that I really had a therapy session today. All I did was space out and trip over my words. I must have looked so stupid.
When I showed him the newest art piece he asked what I felt when I was making it. I told him the whole time I thought how useless I felt and how I don’t do anything right. I thought about how I haven’t felt satisfied with much of anything so each stroke was met with criticism and confirmation of worthlessness. Part of me really likes the style the piece was done in. For some reason I think of Les Misérables when I see it. He said he thinks the little girl in my painting has a judgmental look on her face. I don’t see it that way. I did figure out when I put colour in her eyes I’ll do it by hand after she’s printed off. I like the colour in her eyes better off screen than on. Anyway though, the colours in Little Flower Girl aren’t as bold as my usual style. I like softer colours anyway. Even still the whole time I did Little Flower Girl I thought one thing, you cant’ do anything right, this is a piece of shit. You didn’t do the other version right and this one is worse, can’t you finish anything? On and on and on. I’ve been so mean to myself, so ugly. Part of me likes the painting but I know it has nothing to do with the painting. I just feel like a failure right now, an idiot who can’t get one sentence to come out of her mouth right.
We also talked about Maureen and how she’s out a lot more now that Blossom is actually gone. I think Maureen realizes that Blossom isn’t going to be allowed back in our life. The triggers and buttons Blossom pushed brought Robert forward and pushed Maureen back. I figure we should get Maureen’s blog going again. She use to do Food For The Fragmented Mind. She liked doing it. We’ve been working on getting it over here as well as having a separate page for art therapy stuff. It’ll take a bit of time though I think. There’s just a lot going on. I know it would be nice for Maureen to have her blog back though.
I should write some stuff for Monday’s session but all I want to do right now is go to sleep. Funny how one “simple” thing like kneeling down can send a girl reeling. I just cannot get my head together from that day.
If it weren’t so harmful I’d go lay in the sun to take a nap. I like how it feels on my face.
Austin
Swimming In Negativity-Wednesday, September 24, 2008-4:54PM EST
One thing I’ve come to realize over the years is that people aren’t always aware of when I switch. Even when I feel as if I’m making a total ass of myself, they don’t seem to notice that anything out of the ordinary is taking place. The way I feel when the revolving door syndrome takes over is usually not a reflection on how others are responding to me as I switch–it’s more about my own insecurities and fears.
Your therapist is trained to deal with multiplicity; even if it might overwhelm him at times I’m sure he can handle it. But I bet he’s not as frustrated as you think he is. For one thing, he can be objective about all that switching because he’s not the one doing it.
As for your self-criticism, I can totally empathize. I do this all the time when I’m being creative, whether it’s with my writing, sewing, etc. I don’t believe I can do anything right and so I have a running interior monologue of insults and deprecation. Maybe part of this is the need to attack ourselves before anyone else has a chance to?
I didn’t realize it was Maureen who has the food blog. I visited it and couldn’t find a way to leave a comment. I wanted to tell you that I bookmarked your recipe for pot roast. It sounded (and looked) so yummy! Since I’ll be cooking dinner for me and Sissyface after I move, I’m on the look out for good recipes.
PS I took your flower test and discovered I’m a Snapdragon. It just figures, doesn’t it?
“Maybe part of this is the need to attack ourselves before anyone else has a chance to?”
We talked about that in therapy yesterday and about what I’m trying to destroy and push away so I have more control over the situation I fear will end in rejection.
What comes across my brain is nothing short of assault.
“Oh you’re a sensitive little bitch aren’t you?” and stuff like that. It’s horrible. I think a lot of it has to do with the trigger that just doesn’t’ stop. That same damn memory just doesn’t stop.
Austin