Tag Archives: therapy

Yet more processing

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This morning is hard. I had a ‘moment’ where I realized that my first sexual acting out was at about three and a half. My rather clear memories of that were that I was just ‘supposed’ to do that. Now, as an adult I realize that in order to have such a clear sense of place associated with sex acts I was probably being molested at about Shanna’s age. I simply cannot conceive of anyone being such a monster that they would hurt a baby like that. But someone (someones?) did. It is becoming harder and harder for me to continue to have the self-narrative that I was just sexually precocious and any of what happened to me as a kid was by choice.

This is really really hard.

Something else I’m thinking about

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I’ve noticed that with a couple of friends I have a particular issue. So my friends are eldest children and they were assigned a lot of child-minding duties growing up. They very automatically step in and start doing what feels like parenting my kid. I have mostly bit my tongue about this but I’ve felt kind of butt-hurt. Recently I started talking to one of the people in particular and I think that I’m having the feelings I’m having because I have so many issues with my own sister and her attitudes around doing the same thing. But I don’t like that I’m feeling this way about my friends. They aren’t my sister and they don’t behave like her at all. Even if there are some surface similarities in ‘caring for nearby children’ it’s just not the same.

Ok. I’m going to make a resolution for myself. I’m going to work on my butt-hurt feelings. In all seriousness these friends who take these kinds of self-imposed caretaking roles are going to be the closest my children have to family experiences. I really want my children to feel what it is like to have people other than me who love them and take care of them. That means I need to get comfortable with it and not fuck it up for them because of my issues. I really wish that the list of ‘shit to work on’ was getting smaller instead of longer.

(Shanna asked to watch videos so I got to type again. 😛 )

Cycles.

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I notice that when I feel bad about something and I don’t act on it because I feel confused/anxious/uncertain about how to handle it I tend to get very fussy and anxious overall and it bleeds over into way more of my life than it should. I tend to hold on to things for a long time in that state building it up into my head until I am so frustrated by it that the smallest hint of an infraction in that direction feels like THAT’S IT!!! I’M DONE WITH YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!!! Often this doesn’t go all that well. When I completely over react like that I feel terrible and guilty and like if I were just a better person I wouldn’t blow up like that. But the situation doesn’t really get resolved and it continues on and the cycle continues.

But if I manage to say my piece in a way that is maybe not perfectly polite but not a complete and total overreaction directed at one person I feel way better about myself. And I will have an easier time enforcing that boundary for a long time afterward. I’m always super happy when I manage to do this.

And just because this is the kind of thing I almost never say–I’ve been doing pretty well lately. I’m having lots of emotional cycles but I’ve not been depressed in quite a while. Frustration seems to be ever present while pregnant though. 🙂

Wow. Not the week I feared.

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This week has been remarkably stable and upbeat. I had the brief manic phase last week as kind of a ‘end of depression festivity’ and since then… very calm. I have been doing stuff to relax many of the evenings, but not every evening and not at all during the day. I feel better. I feel like I am not going to freak out if something is less than perfect. I haven’t had self harming ideation at all this week.

I hired my nephew to come do a lot of the work in the garage. That was a wise choice. He has worked out there probably ~16 hours over the past week and he has made amazing progress. He has about two more hours of mudding left to do. I am, of course, extremely grateful to Paula for coming over and telling us how to do this more efficiently. 🙂 Not to mention the work she did in general. 🙂 Yayyyyyy Paula! The mudding will be finished tomorrow and he will be coming over next week to start the painting. The garage won’t be ‘done’ by Christmas but it will be usable which was by goal. It’s kind of funny, but I am proud of myself for realizing that I wouldn’t be able to get it done by myself and asking for help. That’s a big deal for me. And I’m grateful that Denny was willing to come do so much work. And I’m super super super grateful to T and L for all the enormous work they have done so far. I’m feeling very humbled by the good people in my life. I may not have people who are available to ‘hang out’ much, but when I need help it appears. That is something I need to spend more time being aware of.

We haven’t finished making Christmas presents and we haven’t mailed anything. Oops. 🙂 Stuff may be late this year. And you know what? That’s ok too.

This is why I believe in the roller coaster model of life. Everything that is up must come down and everything that is down must come up. Thank goodness for upswings.

{short list} Feeling safe

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I haven’t been posting filtered stuff. As a result I have ceased to feel safe posting about some of the stuff going through my head and I’m tired of feeling like I can’t post on my journal. So I’m back to filters. This isn’t a particularly broad filter. There are many cases of one person in a partnership being on this filter when the other person isn’t. I’m not asking you to keep secrets from your partner but I would prefer if you didn’t go out of your way to bring this stuff up. I still like all of your respective partners I just don’t want to be argued with right now.

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Boundary stuff

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I’ve kind of realized something recently. I’m having a lot of trouble with anxiety and frustration. I’m having a really hard time with mood swings. I think that a lot of the problem is that I am allowing myself to get into positions repeatedly where I feel like I ‘have’ to put up with stuff I don’t like. Where in the hell are my lauded boundaries?! I’m going to stop being in the position where I have expectations of flaky people. It’s bothering me a lot.

Noah has found a way to change some of the stresses within our lives and that’s really awesome. Go him.

I’ve thought quite a bit lately about trying psych meds again because of how bad things have been for me. But I don’t want to be on meds. I know what I need to do if I am going to stay off of meds. It’s going to involve stepping on a few toes and stating some boundaries in ways that might piss people off or hurt feelings but my sanity is worth that. I can’t be a good mom as long as I am blowing in the wind of other peoples indecision and moods.

I need to stop bitching about the people who suck and just cut them out of my life. It isn’t worth going up and down with them. I suffer from it. They aren’t worth it.

Finally writing about the tattoo

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Quite some time ago (more than three years) I embarked on the journey of permanent body modification. I didn’t start the project lightly. I assumed for most of my life that I would never get a tattoo because they were usually a bad idea. But I started dreaming about this tattoo and I decided that I wanted to do it.

So here is the story, once again, including pictures. Continue reading →

That’s what grief is

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Yesterday I had my second session with this new therapist. We spent an hour going over my history so that she would have at least some idea of who I am before we got into the fresh stuff.

It was amazing. I’m sad when talking about the old stuff because it is all sad stuff. But when we started talking about Francesca, when we talked about my child, I sobbed. That’s the difference. That’s what I’m struggling with. That’s grief.

Jealousy and cliques

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I realized something important tonight. I don’t think I am any more jealous of Noah going out on dates than I am of him gaming. I am just about equally as hostile to both. Well… ok so somehow I manage to actually verbalize and lash out more when it comes to the jealousy around other women. I think that part of the reason I feel more secure in being actively hostile towards him dating is because of the overall cultural/social acceptability towards being jealous of nonmonogamy. It’s not nearly so culturally acceptable to throw screaming temper tantrums about gaming, especially not in the very limited and controlled way he does it. That’s really interesting to think about. Ok, so I’m jealous. I’m so jealous I want to hit things (and I have) and I want to cry (and I have) and I want to make him hurt/angry/upset too (I think I did that too). Why am I so jealous?

I think it’s because this plays into some of my core insecurities. I don’t feel wanted. I don’t feel liked. Ok, I’m aware that people do like me. The readership of this journal alone won’t let me follow that pity party too closely. But how many of you do I see in a week? In a month? In the average year? Yeah. I don’t have a close group of friends. I’ve never had a close group of friends for any length of time. That came about because of moving around so much as a kid. I never learned how to deal with people on an extended basis. I can do short bursts and then I burn out quickly. I feel like I have to always be ‘on’ and let me tell you I am good at that act. I can be interesting, sexy, supportive, or obnoxious depending on what I think will play best to the crowd. I can’t do it for long though. In the past week and a half I spent not quite three days with a couple of friends and then about four days with a different couple of friends. I flipped out on both sets. I think that being overall kind of down contributed heavily to the fact that I didn’t have as much energy to be ‘on’ as I needed for those lengths of time. I desperately want to be able to do the long stretches of time with people but I always lose it. I want to crawl into a hole and hide because as I start running out of energy for putting on the front I get snappy which means that I start feeling bad about being mean which leads me to think about what a horrible person I am which makes me question why anyone wants to be friends with me anyway. This really is a sucky cycle. I don’t know how to change it.

Back to how this relates to Noah. Noah is the one person in my life I really trust to want to be around me. But he wants to spend time away from me doing things without me. It doesn’t really matter whether it is gaming or dating it hurts either way. Because knowing that he wants to go off without me makes me doubt that he really wants to be around me. It makes me feel like Noah is just one more person who can’t handle me because I am such an awful bitch. And when I feel like anyone doesn’t want to be around me because I am such an awful bitch it makes me get mean. And things cycle from there.

Ok. If I can look at the cycle that means I can find a way out of it. I’m just not sure where to start. Ok, I do know where to start. But he’s not home from his date yet.

Dropped my basket

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So I’m not really sure how to talk about this here but given that I’m me I feel compelled to try. I have crashed really hard. I now get to experience how difficult it is to take care of a kid while depressed and it really sucks. I’m doing it anyway because life doesn’t wait for me to feel happy or good about myself. There is still a baby to cuddle and read to and feed and change and nurse whether I feel up to it or not.

If you sum up the last year and a half it kind of makes sense that I’m losing it. One of my close friends died after an overdose and then my therapist, whom I saw for years and years and was very close to, did the same thing. And another death in my extended family was kind of the topper even if this one was expected and less tragic. I failed out of the masters program after seven years of work. I’m not sure why my writing was good enough for all those years but it just wasn’t in the end. I didn’t manage to have the home birth I was so set on; I suppose I should just be grateful I escaped the hospital without a c-section. I’ve had a miscarriage of a baby I wanted very much. I’m having an extremely hard time with some stuff with Noah; I’m really feeling very inadequate and pathetic. And on top of all that I had Shanna–which has been wonderful and fulfilling but a lot of work and physically stressful and my system is not recovered yet anyway. Many things about my core identity have been challenged in some pretty difficult ways. I feel like I don’t know who I am.

So I’m lonely and depressed and I desperately want to cut. I’m not doing it only because in some weird way I feel like it would be unfair to Shanna.

Good enough

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One of my wonderful friends told me that I inspire her because I have accomplished so much and I started out with so little. If I stop and think about that even semi-objectively she is right. But there is always that voice in the back of my head saying, “But you didn’t do ‘x’ and you failed at ‘y'” and those things seem to cancel out my accomplishments. But why? How do I lose credit for the things I have done? I got a high school diploma. I was the first one in my family to do so. I managed to avoid pregnancy/abortion when most folks in my life circumstances didn’t. I am not an addict and I seriously doubt I ever will be–given my familial background that is huge. I have a bachelors degree and a teaching credential. I have been to five foreign countries. I have been to 30 states including an amazing backpacking trip in Alaska (have I said thank you lately, DA?). I am a fairly technically skilled top. I am a very good teacher. I have a good eye for putting together colors in interior decorating (if I do say so myself. :P). I’m a good mom. I’m a good wife.

I am sane. I own my shit. I am good about boundaries. I give and receive respect. I am an honorable person.

If I fail the masters exam what have I lost? I lose out on the chance to have a piece of paper to hang on my wall. I lose out on the ability to feel snotty and superior because of my formally recognized education. In reality I won’t be more educated if I get the piece of paper. I will still be in the top pay bracket if I go back to teaching because no one can take away the units I have earned.

I’ve been having a serious identity crises lately because I feel like who I am has somehow become less since I became a mother. It’s rather bullshit though. I’m not actively doing a lot outside of being a mother right now, but that’s ok. That is the season of life I am in. I wanted it and doing this does not devalue me.

I am good enough.

Anxiety

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I’ve been having a lot of anxiety lately. I feel anxious about all kinds of things. The comp exam, interactions with people, am I doing ‘enough’ in various ways, and of course my ever present internal push to be Mary Poppins. (People keep saying Martha Stewart and Hell No I think she is a wasteful twat.) I don’t keep my house clean enough. I feel confused by the barrage of information out there about health and diet and trying to be good to the planet. I feel confused by the myriad of different parenting philosophies. I feel like I am not being a good enough partner to Noah. I feel like I am not exercising enough. I feel like I must be doing Something Wrong as a parent. I don’t have any frame of reference for ‘normal’ for children so I have no idea if she is doing alright. (I think she is, but how in the hell would I know?) I alternate feeling kind of lonely and feeling like I am tired of dealing with people and it would be fine if I never saw anyone ever again. I feel frustrated by stupid interactions. I feel like I am being judged and found wanting in just about every way. I realized yesterday that my mother plans to come up here for Shanna’s first birthday party and she plans to fly to Oklahoma in July. How in the hell is she going to pay for that? Wait–is she going to expect me to? I am feeling a lot of pressure to save money and yet it seems like one of the easiest things I can do to help me not stress out all the time is spend money. (I think I’m fairly frugal but of course there are people out there who are more frugal so I feel like I am awful and terrible.) I have this problem of feeling like if I am not in the top 10% of (x) skill/ability/talent/whatever/activity then I am obviously pathetic and a loser.

That paragraph is hard to read. That’s how my brain looks right now though. I’ve never heard of postpartum anxiety but this doesn’t sound like postpartum depression. I’m not sad. I’m just anxious. I’m not happy with the fact that having a baby made it so that I don’t enjoy sex much. What the fuck happened? I enjoy the closeness and the intimate feeling, but it’s just not all that… exciting. I feel really fussy about having to be the one to initiate dates and sex when most of it is happening because it helps Noah stay cheerful. I understand that I have to be the one to initiate because I’m the one who can get Shanna to sleep most of the time, but still. I don’t feel sexy or interesting anymore. I gave a friend most of my ‘interesting’ clothes this weekend. I have weird feelings about that. On one hand I won’t be able to wear any of it for a long time (I’m too fat) but I feel like I just gave up on being interesting. I’m not worth looking at like that anymore. I’m completely de-sexed. I’m really thrilled that she is getting to enjoy the clothes though and I’m happy she is going out and having fun. So I get to feel like I’m a nice person for assisting her in fun and I get to feel like I’m just kind of pathetic and lame because I’m not having that kind of fun anymore. It’s a mixed bag.

So yeah. I feel like my brain is going close to a mile a minute lately and there isn’t much I can to do calm down and just feel content. My life is where I want it to be and that is hard. I’ve always been striving in the past and I don’t know how to stop doing that. I need to find my zen and just be happy in knowing that I accomplished (almost) everything I wanted to accomplish. It’s ok that my house isn’t perfectly clean–it doesn’t make me a bad person. Noah doesn’t care. I actually don’t care that much of the time. I worry about the hypothetical people out there who do care. I feel like they think I am pathetic because “You have all that time at home and your house is still dirty?!” It’s all about projecting stuff.

And I’m still freaking out about my therapist being dead. I wonder if that is part of the reason I have so much fuss bubbling to the top right now because I just found out that I can’t go process any of it with the person I process with. AHHHHHHHHHHHH

I had trouble sleeping

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When I got back to CA I had a message on my phone. It turns out my therapist died of an overdose while I was gone. This is the second death by that method of someone I was close to in just over a year. I’m feeling very conflicted and confused and unsettled. I knew she was cracking up when I stopped seeing her. I said snarky things about her cracking up. I was pretty sure she was on drugs. But now I feel terrible that I didn’t do something to try and help her because she was pretty clearly asking me for help–the whole taking over my therapy sessions to talk about her bit was obvious. I really liked her, both as a professional and as a person. I haven’t called the person who left me the message because I’m kind of freaked out.

My mom always said that deaths go in threes. I’m really afraid of who will be the third overdose. 🙁

How very odd.

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So I haven’t posted in a while about how much I love my therapist. There have been some reasons for this. A few months ago she had some personal medical stuff happen and she went on hiatus to deal with stuff. Fair enough. When she came back she started behaving… oddly. Our sessions started involving a lot of personal details about her life. It started feeling more like she wanted to bond than be my therapist. This was a gradual process and for a while I wasn’t sure if I was overreacting or if things were starting to get way too friendly.

A few weeks (months? my time sense is toast) ago I noticed that almost half of our session was spent with her telling me how much she and I are alike in great detail and telling me about how we have overcome the same things in our lives and how special we are. Riiiiiiiight. Then I had the prelabor issue and I canceled sessions for a while because I was afraid of driving to Oakland. During this period I talked to a few people and decided that no really, she was being completely inappropriate. After I was on bedrest for a bit she offered to drive down and do a session in my house. I figured that I needed to talk to her about the weird boundary stuff anyway so sure. Only she just couldn’t seem to get here. She called 30 minutes before the session was to begin and told me that she was getting a late start because she had been having anxiety issues and her current med cocktail makes it unsafe to drive when she is freaking out like that. I said that we should maybe cancel because I had another appointment after her with not a lot of wiggle room. She indicated that she was already on the road, but she had stopped on the way and she could make it in time. She was pretty aggressive about still wanting to come down. So I agreed hesitantly and sat and waited. At 15 minutes past the start time she sent me a text message saying she was lost but almost here. When we got to the point where I needed to leave in 15 minutes I sent her a text message saying that I needed to leave soon. She called me and said that she understood that I needed to leave and that being punctual is very important to me. She then said she was very sad because she had really wanted to at least see my house and touch base with me–she hadn’t been planning to charge me for the session anyway. *blink* ? What? This was odd. I told her to just turn around because I was going to head out.

Then she sent out an email to all her clients saying that she needed people to pay in cash for a while due to an issue in her personal life. Well that’s odd…

I agreed to one phone session after that, but there was a weird connection and she lost phone connectivity (battery?) and so she didn’t charge me for that. Then I got to the point where I was just not up for the continued weirdness and I told her that I was going to be opting out of therapy for a while because I didn’t really want to be driving to Oakland and I thought I was doing pretty well anyway. She reluctantly agreed to this.

Then tonight she called me. She has missed me and wanted to know what was going on with me and why I haven’t called her. I was very very clear on my boundaries and told her that I’m doing fine and if I want to see her again I will call. Noah couldn’t figure out who I was talking to–he thought it sounded like my conversations with Rebecca when I’m being extremely clear on what I am interested in talking about. 🙂 She wanted to be sure that I would let her know when the baby comes and that it will mean a lot to her. She stressed a few times that if I want to talk on the phone because I’m processing anything she is totally up for that and she won’t charge me at all. Or if I am able to come up and see her that she won’t mind me feeding the baby at all. I’m starting to feel pretty freaked out. I left the phone call by saying that I was feeling like maybe I wouldn’t need therapy anytime soon but if I decide I need to see her I’ll let her know. That was probably too ambiguous. I’ve been seeing her for years. The next time she calls I’m going to need to tell her to stop calling and that feels so very uncomfortable.

I wish she hadn’t freaked out on me. My therapist is not supposed to be a source of freakin conflict.

Since it came up.

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I was reminded yesterday that I make a lot of references to my background that I don’t explain at the time. Part of the lack of explanation is that I have written about a lot of it in some detail over the years but I suppose it is complete narcissism to assume that people will go back and read my whole archives (not a small task) in order to find out more about me. 🙂 (I actually do that sometimes. Depends on how busy I am when I pick up a new journal.) I’m also spoiled because Noah has read my whole archive two or three times and since I seem to be the center of his universe, of course I must be for other people as well… right? 🙂 So if you have spent years reading me and you don’t want to see this again, or if you just don’t care, feel free to skip the rest of this post.
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whoo boy that’s a roller coaster.

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So I got to play on Saturday. That was fun. It was a pretty decent scene. We asked one of my dearest friends to join us and it was all happy and fun and such. Except for that crying part. That was less “happy”.

Yesterday was a complete and total roller coaster day and I think it was cause of of playing. I went between angsty and fussy and angry all day. (It didn’t help that my tummy felt awful for a lot of the day and it was 77 degrees so my body was like WTF IS IT SO HOT FOR. I don’t like warmth much.) So I try to process. Cause I’m like that.

I was irritated because yesterday the marks from the scratching (with a knife) made it really hard to sleep after playing so I got almost no sleep Saturday night. I’m having a lot of trouble sleeping on my side in one position all night anyway–having to do it on *one* side because the other side was mucho owie just caused problems.

I also found that in retrospect I had a hard time dealing with the fact that Noah and our friend were both trying to push me in terms of how much pain I could handle. When I settled into a given level of ouchie they upped it. Then upped it. Then upped it. Until I broke down crying. Then they went “ahhhhh” and stopped and were lovey and affectionate. Yesterday I felt like, “Why did you need to push until I failed?” So much of what is happening to my body right now is beyond my control and I feel like I am sucking over and over. I’m not sure it was a good thing to push things until I broke. 🙁 I still feel like a failure because I couldn’t handle what they wanted to do to me. Ok, I know that they were going to keep pushing and pushing for a long time, but in my competitive masochist sort of way I don’t like it when I have to cry uncle first. So I’m mad at me and kind of mad at them. (Not real mad. Still glad I got to play at all.)

I’m also fussy because I think I want to fire one of our birth classes. No, I don’t want to come draw a picture and tell you how I feel about it. I did that shit when I was officially crazy as a teenager and I don’t want to fucking do it now. I’m feeling really angry about the lack of information in the class compared to the amount of woo-woo crap. (Uhm, no offense to any woo-woo types reading this. If it works for you, awesome. Is not my thing.) So If feel hostile and defensive when I go. Why am I going then? Oh, we had birthing class last night and I had to go argue with them telling them that no, I am not going to be “drawing my birth landscape so I can tell you how I feel about it.” I also didn’t appreciate being told that since my big focus in birth is that I want to trust my body and my instincts to tell me what is right over the random advice of other people that I should “soften around this idea because I’m not necessarily right”. I wanted to walk out right then. Because you know what you woo-woo bitch, you are exactly who I shouldn’t listen to.

And Noah wisely pointed out yesterday that I probably shouldn’t have any more lumps of lard and meat (but chicken nuggets are SO TASTY) because my stomach hurt massively all day after having it. Which probably contributed to me being such a bitch.

Ok, this roller coaster of emotions is getting old. I want off. And I woke up in a foul mood. I have class tonight. Awesome.