Anxiety and not knowing it (my list of worries)

Anxiety and not knowing it (my list of worries)

Last night I was up due to a flare. I had done way too much and was hurting. I couldn’t sleep so I was thinking a lot of things. I pondered about stuff that happened during yesterday’s PT session. I realized then that I have a shit ton of anxiety that I am not even aware of most of the time. I think about things and think often of the worse. Like my PT was telling me, I didn’t re-injure myself, that it was just the muscle being overworked because I did too many reps of the strengthening exercises she was giving me. It took her most of the time to reassure me that I was okay. I didn’t resprain my ankle. What I was feeling was the muscle hurt because of overuse. She also reassured me that I was NOT getting CRPS in that foot because I injured it.

I never knew how much anxiety I was feeling. I never do. It’s always a million thoughts and worries and last night I started writing about them in my journal and there was a lot in those three pages I wrote. I am sure if exhaustion didn’t kick in, I could have probably finished the journal off. There are only about 10 pages left and then I will start another one. I really need to write more about this because I don’t think it is going to get better otherwise. I was reading an article about anxiety and ways to reduce it. One of the things mentioned was writing in a journal. I have noticed that when I can’t sleep and write down my thoughts, whatever they are, either in my blog or journal, but mostly journal as it is pen to paper, I feel more relaxed and can often go to sleep afterwards. I had been in the habit of writing in my journal since being disabled. Sometimes I would write three times a day, between my day and night journals. I have one I take with me and write in when I am at Starbucks or have some down time between appointments. Then I have one on my bed so I will write when I get home if I am frustrated and before I want to sleep. I kind of got away from it and it was only during times I couldn’t sleep that I would write.

Thing is, I am not really aware how my thoughts are affecting my emotions and causing me to be tense. I really have a disconnect between my emotions and feeling them. Most of the time, I don’t feel anxious. I feel calm but just worried about things. Like my mother and her rehab, my upcoming pain doc appointment, being in pain, wondering what my PCP is going to do/say when I see him next, etc. I also worry about my sisters and what is going on in their lives. I have a lot of these thoughts and then dealing with my cousin last night that pissed me off because he was flipping out over the weather. Not kidding, he was cursing because it was going to rain today. I have never seen him flip out before over something so stupid. He just made me so annoyed. I knew I shouldn’t have picked up the phone.

Then I worry about my country and the assholes that are ruining it. Also because of the Supreme Court nominee, my sexual abuse stuff has been stirred up big time. I can’t seem to stop the memories and the feelings attached to them. I haven’t told my therapist this. I want to get through this pain doc appointment first. And then you have the worry thoughts of going on hormones next week. While I am thrilled about it, I am thinking of every little detail of how this shot is going to be played out. I have a few hours before I see my therapist after the nurse shows me how to do it. I kind of want to give it before the appointment but worry I won’t do it right. My biggest concern is how to extract the contents of the vial without bending the needle and not breaking the vial because the damn needle is bigger than it. I am not supposed to bring the med with me but I am so the nurse can advise me on how to do this. I will feel better if she sees how small this vial is and how big the needle is. I might be worrying for nothing (anxiety talking) but I think it is a legit concern. I have spoken to a few of my friends who were nurses before they were disabled. They say it will be fine. I would kind of feel better if I had a smaller needle so I can extract the stuff, especially the last bits to make sure I get the correct dose when the vial is almost gone. The syringe I have is okay. I can figure out how the markings and stuff. I used to be a medical assistant so know how to draw but fuck. This is not for a patient. This is for me. And I will be injecting into my muscle!! I am kind of worried about that, too. I know it is better than gels or creams but fuck. I never gave myself an IM injection before. Subcutaneous, yes. We did that in school. It was nothing. I am not afraid of needles but this one is directed toward me. UGH. Sorry, I just realized I am going on and on about this. I must be more nervous about this than anything. But hell, it is got to happen if I am want to be more masculine. I am in the wrong body. I haven’t told my mother. I am not going to because I don’t want to hear what she has to say on the matter, which I know won’t be positive. I can’t deal with her about it.

I have been listening to Mary Chapin Carpenter because she can calm me down. She has such a soothing voice. I haven’t done a thing all day. My mother made pancakes so I will have that in the morning. Maybe I will make some bacon to go with it. I haven’t had her pancakes in quite some time. Only three games left in the regular season. We play the Snakes (NY Yanks). I am hoping for at least one win in the series. Post season starts next week. It will either be Oakland or Snakes. Hoping for Oakland, sort of only because I don’t want to play the snakes!!

Sprain, Pain, and physical therapy

Sprain, Pain, and physical therapy

I had PT today. I had to have my cousin drop me on the station because I was low on the my pass funds, again. I have had to put $15 on the ticket so far because I use it so much. I am definitely getting a monthly pass when my card comes in. Luckily, I don’t have to go again till Monday. I hope the pass comes in the mail by then.

I told my therapist I was worried I sprained it again. She reassured me that unless I fall, I cannot sprain my ankle again. She said I am overdoing the exercises as I am just supposed to do three sets of each exercises. I have been doing like 15 reps per exercise which obviously caused my muscles to me sore. I guess more isn’t better in this case. She told me about the pain program wanted to overlap our sessions with theirs as my sprain isn’t better and my leg isn’t as strong. She will also tell me when the program will begin, though they may call me. They tried to call me last week but for some reason my phone was rejecting the call. It was really weird. I restarted my phone but the same thing happened when my repro endo doc’s secretary tried calling me. It went right to voicemail.

I called my pain clinic and my scripts were ready for pick up. I am glad I went today because it is going to rain all day tomorrow. It was so damn hard because I had to stand most of the way and then walk to the building to pick them up. The syringes for my testosterone has been called in. I had to call the pharmacy to check on availability and they ended up switching to a different manufacturer so I could have them. I still have the problem of the needle being bigger than the vial. I called my PCP’s nurse and she agreed to do it, but I can’t bring in the med to inject. They will show me how using saline. Okay. But that doesn’t solve the problem. I was never a nurse so have no idea how I am to draw the stuff using a big needle. I plan on bringing the vial anyways to show her and then maybe she can just give me a tip on how to draw the stuff. The doc gave me 1ML syringes and I am to draw 0.25 mLs. I got that part. I used to be a medical assistant so know how to draw but I asked for a smaller needle and didn’t get it. UGH!!! Anyways, Wednesday will be my starting day for transition. I hope I can do this!

I came home after the pick up of pain scripts. I also got some stuff at the pharmacy while I was there. I am so tired and my ankle is berserk right now. I stood too long waiting for the damn bus and walking around the hospital. I got a coffee while I was there, a real French vanilla coffee. It was so good. I had to sit for a while but that was a mistake because I didn’t want to get up afterwards. I was starving when I came home but I was also hot so went upstairs to change and rest a bit before eating. My mother was making butternut squash and eggplant. I decided to have the leftover chicken cutlets and squash. It was so good. Butternut squash is my favorite kind of squash. I usually just have it at Thanksgivings all mashed up with butter and brown sugar. But I just had it plain with a little salt on it. It was so good. Then I had a lemon yogurt for dessert.

I did a lot of shit today. I am so happy I didn’t injure my ankle again. I am going to try and just rest tomorrow but I might bake. I really want to try the lemon loaf I’ve been dying to make. I bought more lemons so I could make it. I think I am going to do it sometime this weekend. That is the plan anyway.

About Therapists

About therapists

I have been thinking about writing this for a while, just an overview about the many therapists I have had from all different degrees and orientations. I started off seeing a school counselor. She was getting her degree in counseling, though I am not sure if it was as a school counselor or a social worker. We only saw each other for a few months and then when school started again, I started seeing a social worker that worked at another school. She was good. Had the idea that I shouldn’t use drugs or alcohol. We had a “safety contract”, which my first 10 or so did. It mostly said I wouldn’t kill myself until the next meeting and if I did feel like acting to go to the emergency room or call 911. I only saw her for about 10 months. She left and I saw someone new, a person who was also seeking their degree. I basically feel like she took advantage of me and was only interested in collecting my insurance. Nothing got worked on. I was hospitalized every three months, the last one was when I came out as “gay”. Transgender was never talked about with any therapist until the one I saw prior to my current therapist.

As I had state insurance, therapists were coming and going. By the 10th one, I was tired of them leaving so I left the system for private as I then had private insurance. Only problem was that this therapist didn’t take my insurance. When I switched in 2001, we saw each other for a month before my disc blew and then I didn’t see her again for another three months. We kept in touch by phone. It was a lot to go through. I didn’t talk about my psych issues as I just had my physical health jeopardized. We worked together for sixteen years. All throughout, I was suicidal. But I had the odd hospitalization because we worked on stabilizing using frequent contact. We saw each other sometimes three times a week when I was bad. Then we saw each other twice a week. She moved offices until she moved 30 miles away from Boston. It was tough because I didn’t have a car. I did but it broke down. We just had phone therapy. This went on for about five years. I would get a zipcar once a month to see her but that took some planning around my pain and weather.

The suicidal ideation I had made my therapist nervous. We tried different things, but she never consistently held me to them. I chided away from it because I knew what she was looking for or rather had an idea. I knew it wasn’t going to change. During the last year of therapy we had, we were constantly fighting over my suicidality. She just wasn’t listening to me anymore. I couldn’t explain why I was suicidal. I just mentioned it and she would “hog” the rest of the session with her endless talk, which I just took as her anxiety. It was interfering. I found out she was seeking consultation over me and I felt threatened by that. Eventually we just called it quits. I didn’t see anyone for few months. I had to collect myself. She gave me a few therapists but they weren’t taking on new clients.
Enter my current therapist. He had called back within a few hours of me leaving a message and we had set a time up with in a few days. He sent me his paperwork and other insurance stuff. All throughout seeing the previous therapist, we had tried different suicidal safety planning and scales and whatnots. This guy was not for it. I think the less paperwork, the better. And it bugs me! He just wants to talk things out. For the first six months I didn’t know if this was going to work out. But I had no where else to go. I was tired of searching for therapists only to be told no when I revealed I had a suicidal history. He wasn’t afraid of me talking about suicide and I ease up. Even when I told him I had a plan, he didn’t freak out on me. He understood why I felt that way and we talked it out. It decreased my feelings so I didn’t feel like no one was on my side. I often felt better after sessions but there were a few where I was more frustrated. I texted him a few times and got supportive responses, something my previous therapist did not do, at all. She only responded if we had to change appointment times.

I have been seeing this guy for 16 months. I still find it totally weird that we have an understanding of why I am suicidal yet there is no plan in place, so to speak. He is okay if I live and okay if I die, as long as I don’t do it in his office. He hasn’t taught me things I don’t already know. He would like me to be more social, but that is kind of hard with my physical pain. I like being alone anyway as noise can irritate me, like it is today. Hell, just being in Starbucks when their music is loud is enough to have me leave after I finish eating or when I am ready to write. He doesn’t try to pin things down and my biggest annoyance is when he says we will work on something but doesn’t go further than that. And then when I bring it up next session (I have to bring things up, he won’t), it still doesn’t go anywhere. But I have had that happen with the last therapist I saw, too. She would say we need to work on this and we never did.

I don’t mean to write this to defer you from seeking therapy, that isn’t my goal. I just wanted to write about my experiences with therapists and how they react to suicidal thoughts. Everyone is different. And maybe you started seeing a therapist and then the suicide thoughts started happening. The therapist freaks out and you are then forced to see someone else. Or you attempted and now the therapist doesn’t want to work with you anymore. That is sad and unfortunate but I know it does happen. Suicide is like an elephant (or hippo as someone called it that the other day) in the room that you both know is there but don’t want to face. Or maybe your therapist is trained and does work with you on the issues as long as there is a safety plan in place first with contact numbers and you collaborate on what will work and what will not work. The focus has to be on YOU not the therapist’s comfort level. While my therapist does that and gives me the time to try and work things out as well as support me in any way he can, I still sometimes feel like he just doesn’t get it or dropped the ball on an issue that is never going to see light of day again. I know they are busy people. They have lives outside the office. They see so many patients per day and then deal with the wonderful insurance that can or cannot accept their claims. I don’t know. I am not making excuses for them but if you have a therapist that cares about you and takes your suicidal thoughts seriously, works with you on keeping you safe, and the chronicity of the matter, great. I just am still trying to work with someone and cope with a therapist that says you can kill yourself as long as it isn’t in my office.

Useless appt that wasn’t so useless after all!!

Useless appointment wasn’t so useless after all!!!

I had a hard time sleeping. Pain was awful last night and had me really depressed. I woke up a few times before my alarm but didn’t do much. I was already maxed on stuff I could take and I didn’t want to take any Neurontin because it would give me a hangover. The alarm went off and although I didn’t want to get up, my bladder said I had to. I used the bathroom and brushed my teeth. I wasn’t sure if I would need an allegra but I brought it with me just in case. It was really cold out. I wore sweatpants as I didn’t feel like wearing jeans.

At least three buses I didn’t need came and went. Then my bus finally came. I had my espresso and a sandwich. I didn’t have time for writing because the trains were running behind due to a malfunctioning train. I played with my phone for a bit and then left. I really didn’t want to go to this appointment but it was the only way to get my female hormones.

My doc was on time. Usually she is late so this was good. She brought me to her office and right away she asked about my chart and how I wanted to be called. I thought that was odd so I told and stuff and then she said she would be happy to prescribe testosterone for me and I nearly fell out of my chair! She said she and an ID doc was going to lead a transgender clinic that would open in January. We talked more about my gender dysphoria and stuff. Then next thing I know we were talking about the hormones and how I would take it. I would have to kind of finish my birth control and then start T. That would be next week. I also need to be shown how to inject the stuff as I opted for that. She asked if my PCP’s office would do the training and I said I would ask. And then it was see you in four months!

She made my fucking day!! I don’t have to go to another clinic. I would have all my care at the same place, which makes it easier to have everyone on the same page, so to speak. She called in the prescription but the damn computer system didn’t let it go through. I have to email her and let her know about it. I am kind of waiting on what my PCP’s nurse will say but she is not giving me an answer until Wednesday. My therapist says I should just tell the doc they said no so another nurse can do it. I might go that route. My PCP’s office has been nothing but trouble. Just to get my fricken ear drops for my eczema has been a bitch. Two phone calls later I get the script. I go through this every year when the bottle expires.

I had such a range of emotion today. My pain has been bad most of the day but as it got colder, it seemed to get better. Kind of weird but I will take it. I only needed one BT med today, so far. I got to take my meds soon after I write this. Seems I have a pattern of writing a bunch and then playing on my phone, which delays the end of the blog. UGH. My sisters are excited that I will be starting hormones. It is definitely going to be a change. I didn’t bother telling my mother. I didn’t want her negativity to spoil my day. I am just going to have a beard one day and then maybe she will start to understand. I don’t know. Telling her I am how I am doesn’t seem to be enough.