I had a good therapy session this morning.

I started off with a good babble to set the stage. I’ve seen her before, but I think we are up to 8 sessions over the past year and a half. We don’t know each other well. I told her that the last week is a great microcosm of some of my big behavioral cycles. I overall start on a downward trend in mood but nothing in particular seems to be specifically wrong. Then Something Happens and I feel confirmed in believing that I am horrible and awful and a Bad Person. Then I search frantically for something, anything to distract me from looking at how shitty I feel about myself and I always find something. Then I have this super productive period where I close off all awareness of my emotions and work really hard. (So I haven’t been doing great, then the panic attack at J’s house, then I’ve been obsessing over this stupid thread on MDC–and I cleaned a whole bunch of my house this weekend, while sick and wearing the baby. Kind of a SuperWoman thing to do.)

But really that is a really great example of that pattern. But it’s really rare for me to cycle that fast. I told her that is why I was diagnosed as bipolar and she told me that bipolar basically never manifests as mania following depression. I didn’t know that. Interesting. She thought it was pretty neat that I can explain my pattern this well. I didn’t tell her that I know all the tricks to manipulate therapists into thinking I’m cool but I don’t know all the tricks to be an honest-to-goodness healthy person. ha. She also said that Blue Shield can’t turn down a claim form if the diagnosis is Generalized Anxiety Disorder. Looks like I get to go argue with them. Erf. But, if I can get them to cover it then it isn’t nearly so financially prohibitive for me to see her lots. It’s worth a battle. I’m also going to bring in my Victims/Witness paperwork. (I don’t remember the whole real title, but the Victims/Witness stuff is a state run program for victims and witnesses of violent crimes. You get money to pay for medical and mental health treatment. Technically my first bout of that expired with Traci, but you can apparently file appeals and get coverage extended pretty much indefinitely if you are fucked up enough. Check.)

In trying to determine what the goals of therapy are at this point we came up with a couple of specific ones. First and foremost, I need to dial down this anxiety. It is preventing me from being the mom I want to be. I don’t think that yelling is a horrible punishment, but I really think that Shanna’s behavior most of the time deserves an intensity of maybe a seven and right now I’m often *starting* at six and escalating to eight or nine. That’s not cool. I don’t think she deserves that. And hearing her quote me and say “Just get away from me” while she is crying… oh god. My poor baby. When I’m having a bad panic attack I do say that to her. 🙁 I need to get a handle on this.

I think that a lot of my problem right now is that this is the longest period of stability in my life. I have lived in this house longer than I’ve lived anywhere. I have been married longer than I have ever dated anyone. I have accomplished pretty much every single goal I had for myself. (No masters degree, but hey–no one is perfect.) I have the kids I wanted. I have the life I wanted. Why aren’t I happy? Mostly because I don’t know what content looks like. I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen it. I didn’t know normal, stable people growing up and my life has been a series of crisis or phases. Even once the really bad shit stopped happening I had my theater period (lasted ~3 years) the bdsm scene (intense involvement for ~5 years) dancing (not quite 2 years) teaching (~3 years) and now… Now what? What do I do? I hang out with my kids. Ok. But that isn’t something to ‘do’ it is something to endure. God that sounds awful. That sounds like I hate my life. I don’t. I really enjoy hanging out with my kids but I feel like … I feel like me just staying home and being happy is a complete waste of time. Especially because I don’t spend a huge amount of time cleaning. I really feel guilty about that part. Noah and I have discussed and decided that I am a stay at home MOM, not maid. I would not be a very nice person if I was constantly cleaning. I would be tired and bitter and nasty. Not so awesome for anyone.

So basically I want to find out how I can be content with how awesome my life is (it totally is) and stop freaking out waiting for something awful to happen. I need to find a way to give myself permission to really be content.

Uhm, and I have some abuse shit bubbling up that is freaking me out. I really can’t get past thinking that I was younger than Shanna when my father started molesting me. 🙁 And I miss my mommy. That has gotten so complicated for me. So that will also get gotten-to in therapy.

And then I came home and had a great chat with K. (The one who witnessed the panic attack at J’s house last week.) Her point of view about the whole panic attack thing was really useful for me. She didn’t know it was a panic attack, but she could visibly see my shaking, she could see me panting, she noticed how my voice changed. I was (perhaps in a fucked up way) thrilled with her validation that at no point did my words towards Shanna step over the line into inappropriate territory and I was never overly rough with Calli. She said she thought even holding Shanna by the upper arm was not done in a violent or overly aggressive way. She offered to step in not because she thought what I was doing was harmful or bad, but because I was pretty obviously not all there anymore. That was good to hear. I like being told I’m only moderately over the bend.

And there was more good. The End. Otherwise known as, I am no longer able to type in this post but I don’t want to lose it.