Walking too much
Yesterday was my first double header since being sick. I am not 100% well so I was really tired when I got to my second appointment. I am glad the two buildings were close to one another but there was still some walking involved. Therapy was a little rough. I am experiencing so much feeling and she doesn’t put up with much in between stuff. She likes to stay on topic and squeeze shit out of me when I don’t want to. I have hid from my feelings for a long time so this is completely new to me, to have a therapist that actually wants to work on feelings and stuff. I talked briefly about today’s appointment with her as I didn’t want to be stepping on people’s toes. Everything is a gray area all of a sudden. I feel like I am seeing psych sub specialists for things that I used to see one person for. Yesterday’s events exhausted me and what the cold didn’t do was make me exhausted enough to sleep. My nose kept running and I felt like I had a leaky faucet for a nose most of the night. Same tonight. Then my bladder kept me up with its constant shit of having to be emptied. I also been having loose stool so I been trying to void on my own rather than use the catheter. It’s the only way for me to go.
Today’s appointment talked about boundaries and for the first time I felt like I wasn’t asking too much by wanting privacy in the bathroom. It has been giving me such anxiety so we creatively came up with ways to say I am in here so my mother doesn’t barge her way in. One is fixing the lock on the door. It has been broken for so long I honestly don’t know if it can be fixed. It will require YouTube and google or I might have to get another mechanism or part to have a working lock on the door. Most people would know someone is in the bathroom and respect their privacy however those rules don’t belong with my mother, least when they concern me. Going to try these things first before actually having to talk to my mother which isn’t going to fly with her.
Yesterday I had sent my psych an article about trans youth and suicide. She recognized the name as one of the residents where she used to work. She then asked me if I thought about coming out sooner would have changed the course of things. It got me thinking and I am still thinking about things because I realized last night, despite twenty-five years passing, I am still suicidal and I am pretty much in the same boat as I was emotionally as I was then that I am now. What is going to keep me here is what is going to make the difference. I sent my therapist a text last night of the question and she responded this morning that it was a good question. Last night I started jotting things down of what has happened and if I do have something this time around that I didn’t have back then. I am not sure I will still be around. My mind has been going and planning this for a while and maybe this time I will succeed. But I think I need to know if my therapist cares if I am to continue to be here. I think that is why I am getting angry with her is because the voices have been saying a lot of stuff about her and I just been listening to them. My messages aren’t being answered when I send them. She doesn’t respond to my texts usually. If I am supposed to work with her, I need to know she gives a shit, that I am just not someone to just fill a spot because she has an opening.
If I sleep tonight, it will be a miracle. Ankle was already hurting before I left the house. My legs are killing me from the walking around the Government Center area I was in today. It would have not been a big deal if I was “normal.” Being disabled really sucked. But I am glad I saw the psychologist today. I feel better knowing I was validated.