Therapy Notes: Don’t Scream

I waited outside my therapist’s office with my headphones on because sometimes sitting in the waiting room makes me a bit anxious. The headphones allow me to block out outside noises but it still leaves inside ones. At least I’m able to block something out.

When my trigger response is high I focus on one instrument and listen to it. I then listen to each instrument and recognize how it compliments the others. Basically I dissect the piece then put it back together again. It helps me not panic and not see or hear every single thing around me. It calms hypervigilance more than anything else I’ve ever tried.

Dr. D asked me if I wear them in public. I said yes, most of the time because they help me function. Without them I’d hide in a corner. It’s happened before. All it takes is a child screaming, especially that piercing little girl scream and I’m in a panic, a flashback. A child’s scream or crying goes right through me. Sometimes even a child’s laugh sounds like a cry which in turn makes me want to run and hide. Having headphones on helps keep triggers to a manageable level. Without them I quickly crumble.

As I explained this to Dr. D I didn’t expect him to ask me if I ever screamed as a child. I froze but I could feel Morton glare at him from behind my eyes. I wasn’t sure if the question was for his own enjoyment with the intent to humiliate or if it was meant to have us open up and “safely” feel vulnerable. My past says it’s the first, reason says it’s the latter. Still my mind cramped and tripped over the question. I asked him what the heck it mattered anyway then quickly got a hold of my anger. He wanted to know if I ever screamed while playing or screamed out while being abused. No, not while playing and no, not while being abused. No, I absolutely did not scream out.

When it came to screaming I was bothered most by that of my sister and cousins. Sometimes I hated it because I felt they were weak and out of control (identifying with the aggressor). Other times I was “comforted” it because it wasn’t me, not right then. Mostly when I hear a child scream I think of how my sister was hurt and cringe then I’m angry enough to throw things. I want that vision and sound out of my head and it doesn’t matter how it gets out. I just want it gone.

We talked about how it was important for my mother to know she was hurting me. When I figured enough time had passed I’d squirm and toss out a few tears. It seemed enough to appease her so that she’d feel satisfied and leave me alone. I always thought I had control over the situation because I knew if I faked a few tears she’d stop. In my mind my behavior changed hers. It was a child’s way of taking control of an out of control situation. I’m not so helpless knowing I can stop her by tossing out fake tears. Plus, I got one over on her because she doesn’t know these tears are fake. I needed some sort of control or at least to feel like I had it. I was just a kid, just a kid.

Of course when the body is hit hard enough there’s an automatic grunt. I did that and hated myself for it but I didn’t scream out. To this day when I was truly afraid I don’t scream I vomit. Back then there was hell to pay for that response. The mother and her family said we were dogs so the scripture at Proverbs 26:11 came into play. The dog returns to his vomit. I had to eat it. Dr. D was obviously grossed out, most would be so I responded, “It’s not the worst thing I’ve ever eaten.” Despite the invitation extended by a pause I didn’t expound on it.

From there we moved on to the taste of peppermint then on to recent movies I’ve watched. We had idle chit-chat for the remainder of the session.

Dear Mom,
Despite the fact that you haunt my dreams and waking hours I do my best not to think about you. When memories of you come up your prolonged, painful, untimely death seems justified.
With much disdain,
Your youngest

Therapy Notes: Don’t Scream – Monday, October 05, 2009 – 8:25PM EST

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