Tag: PTSD

More Reflections about Therapy

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders

More reflections about therapy

I started a Twitter rant and before I knew it, I was crying as I thinking about how my therapist of 15 years is suddenly realizing, now, that she isn’t the one for me. I feel that I am the blame for this though I don’t know how exactly I am. I just feel that if I kept that transference blog to myself instead of sharing it, things wouldn’t be like this.

I had thought about what I was going to do with therapy. I figure I would give her a symptom of something of PTSD nature that we could work on and sort out. But now that has gone to crap as we are breaking up. I don’t know if there are any resolutions to us staying together. It is really sad that in her bag of tricks she has run out of things to help me, even though I have offered her many over the years of working together.

From the start, I always thought of treatment plans to help us get going and she was amenable to these ideas. I never thought that she would depend on me so much. I honestly have no idea when we stopped being client and professional to being something along the lines of being “friends”. We care for one another deeply, there is no denying that. But I think we got too close for comfort and that is what is destroying the therapeutic relationship.

I still can’t understand why she cannot take time out of her schedule to become a CAMS trained therapist. Maybe she thinks it will cost too much or that it will take too long. I don’t know. She never said why. All she has said was that she is not a “suicidologist”. You don’t have to be one to get trained. Maybe this pressure is what is tearing us apart. My suicidality is too tough for her to handle anymore. Maybe she is just burned out like any therapist would be with chronic suicidality. I don’t know. I just know that you can’t “expect different results with the same experiments”. Or something like that. It’s by Albert Einstein. I wrote it in one of the book I read on suicidality. Much good my book did for her.

I keep thinking where did I go wrong. I just don’t know. I just know that I was tired of her anxiety interfering with our therapy. Even when we were talking about my PTSD she was anxious and she didn’t even know it. I had to bring it up. What the hell is that about? I’m a sensitive person so I pick up others emotions pretty quick. In my household growing up, you had to or you got smacked. I’m not saying my therapist is abusive in anyway. Not at all. But she definitely has issues that are not my issues to control. I am just a patient in her care. Not for that much longer.

It hurts like hell that after 16 years in January (that is our anniversary month), we will be saying good-bye. We haven’t discussed formal termination. We are just on a break right now. I wanted to talk to her today or tomorrow but I am being a stubborn fuck and not going to call her. I can manage on my own without her. Hell I have done it before, I will do so again. I know I need a therapist that handles PTSD symptoms and other stuff. I won’t say suicide because that freaks therapists out and I won’t be able to get a therapist if I tell them I am suicidal or have a suicidal history. It’s just the way the therapist world works. The care you need the most is not given due to fear. And I have scared the shit out of my therapist so many times she is having anxiety attacks over it.

I also need a collaborative therapist that won’t be up my ass about their treatment style is the best in the world for me. Horseshit. I don’t work that way. Either we work together or see ya later. I don’t know if I can trust someone just out of the gate again. It took at least five years of working together before I was able to let my guard down with her. I can’t imagine how long it will be for another therapist. That is, if I decide to see a new one. I haven’t completely decided to go ahead with someone new. My therapist has a few names for me, which I will take but I doubt they will work out. I’m just a high risk suicidal case with PTSD out of control with chronic pain that makes it difficult to work through. I am anything but “easy”.

I didn’t kill my therapist

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders, PTSD

I didn’t kill my therapist

I had told my therapist to text me after she eats my cake but never got a text. I thought I killed her sweet tooth for good. That was until my pain shot up and I had real thoughts of ending things so I texted her our code for her to get back to me ASAP. She was at a professional engagement so couldn’t call me but we texted for a few minutes. She wanted me to go to the ER, which I declined because what were they supposed to do that my doctors couldn’t? And what ER would I go to, the medical side or the psych side? Either would be hours of waiting and I just am not up for waiting. I told my therapist I would take my meds early and hope for the best. I was crying at this point because I am so damn frustrated.

I didn’t really do anything but go up the damn stairs after going to the bathroom. Soon as I felt the pain, I snapped. I started crying and wonder what it would be like to go to my spot right now and take the pills with me. Kind of play with fire and see if I get burned. I didn’t care. Before I did get dressed and try and figure out how to even walk to my destination, I called my therapist. I am laid up but tomorrow is another day. Unfortunately, I have to talk to my therapist so I can’t be running off to my spot to end my life. Not that I could run, but you get my point.

It sucks that I didn’t talk with my therapist. I really could have used hearing her voice one more time today. Now I have to wait till tomorrow to hear it. I hate that I am crying like a baby with being in pain. I don’t know how much of it is because of sadness and how much of it is because of the frustration that I can’t do anything to help myself. I did take a sugar pill to see if it does anything. You know, in case this pain is truly in my head and not in my ankle. So far there has been no change in pain levels. But then I have taken a full dose of pain meds and Neurontin. I haven’t broken out the strong pain pill yet.

I was thinking of writing how traumatizing it is to be in pain all the time, every single day and not have a rhyme or reason. How many people go upstairs every day and not experience what I experience? I say that it is traumatizing because it makes me think of my bigger illness, cauda equina syndrome. When I was first diagnosed, I lost feeling in my lower extremity and my left leg/foot was in pain. So I associate that pain with getting CES. And since that day, because I am vulnerable to PTSD (I already was diagnosed), I keep having mini flashbacks of that terrifying time. No matter how many times I try to talk myself out of the feedback loop that this is happening again, it doesn’t seem to work until I take some Ativan to calm myself down. Then I can think a little clearer and see that it’s not happening. That I am just having a pain flare up and things are going to be okay even though I am in agony. I just need to wait till my pain meds kick in. I sometimes wish I had IV drugs to make it happen quicker because waiting up to 45 minutes is torture.

I really hate talking about trauma stuff because I am in denial that things happened the way they did. I was twenty-five when this happened to me so I really was naïve to the situation. I just thought that I needed some pain meds and some physical therapy and I would be good as new again. I had no idea how serious my condition was and it wasn’t like the doctors were all that helpful. Hell the surgeon told me I would be up in three days. Three days later, I still couldn’t move my feet or toes. It wasn’t until a week later I could move my big toe. Things came back so damn slowly. Then when I thought I was doing better I got hit with a staph infection that really knocked me off my feet again. But that is another story for another day.

When I finally saw my therapist three months later in person, she had said that I was traumatized by the surgery and what my body did to me. I didn’t want to believe her. That was 15 years ago. Now I get it. And it’s this trauma I keep experiencing every single night that is driving me whacky. I am sure my hormone levels are off kilter in some way shape or form from going through this every night. No wonder I can’t fucking sleep. I am too stressed from being stressed. I might not understand it physiologically but I know that eventually this shit is going to kill me if it’s not dealt with.

Sunday Blog 14

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders

Sunday Blog 14

I didn’t do a hell of a lot today but I made breakfast. I made oatmeal pancakes with buttermilk. It was good but the pancakes fell apart easily. It was messy. I then cleaned up after myself because my mother was still in the hospital. I called her and she didn’t think she would be coming home today but she did. While I was waiting for her to come home, I watched the baseball game. It was pissing me off because every time they had a runner on first base, they kept trying to pick them off. I hate when they do this because I want to see the batter pitched to not the throw to first! It made it a long game.

When my mother came home, the Sox finally scored some runs. Seven in one inning. I was happy because they were toast yesterday afternoon. It was ridiculous. They lost 21-7. I stopped watching when the game was 13-1. Today they won 10-5. I am glad they took the series and played better ball than yesterday.

I made supper for my mother and myself. My mother is all black and blue from the fall she took the other night and from all the poking from the needles and stuff. There were only two pans left for my mother to wash. My ankle started acting up because I was standing most of the time I was cooking.

I finally read a couple chapters in Harry Potter this morning. I am making slow progress. I will read some more before bed. I really need to take a shower but I need my ankle to settle down some first. I just took a pain pill, my second of the day. Even though I have been home alone most of the day, I have been going up and down the stairs a bit. I had to take the trash and recycling out. Then my niece needed some clothing so I had to go to the first floor to get it for her. My mother needed more ice so we took some from my sister’s freezer as she has an ice maker. Then I went up to my room a few times to play on my laptop before my mother wanted cooking done. It has worn me out.

I did make coffee this morning. I made it a little bit stronger than I usually make it because I didn’t put enough water in the French press like I usually do. It was still good. I was hoping to go poop but that hasn’t happened yet and it’s been a couple of days. I am going to be hurting when I do go. I am not looking forward to it. I had some baked beans tonight with dinner so I am hoping that moves things along.

My cousin called me this morning. She wants me to come visit her to have a pool party. I forgot she has a pool. I really don’t feel like talking to her today so I will call tomorrow. I am just wiped out from doing “normal” activities. Being on my feet didn’t help. But it’s not like you can cook sitting down.

Last night I was reading some old blogs. Seems my depression started sometime in September and just got worse in January through April. I also talked about the voices so they have been active for quite some time, even while on the abilify. I am glad I have this blog to monitor my symptoms because I don’t always remember what I write or when the beginning of something is. I had a few flashbacks this weekend of my father’s death and of his downfall. I was reading some of my posts back in March of this year. I mostly talked about him being mean to me, which he always was. He thought he was being funny. I guess the recurrence of the cancer and him not responding to the radiation treatments caused him to deteriorate. I just can’t believe it happened so quickly.

I think I am able to write the story now without it being traumatic for me. Most of the PTSD symptoms have calmed down. I know I was just triggered by going to the floor that my father was in and walking by the room. He spent almost 10 days on that floor where my mother was.

If I really want to make a dent in the books that I bought the last few months, I really need to get reading. My pile keeps getting higher and higher instead of smaller. I keep looking at the pile and it’s starting to overwhelm me. I had started an Excel sheet of the books that I read and how long it took me to read it. It’s mostly a spreadsheet of when I started a book and when I finished it. Since my father’s death, I have only finished two books. I have a challenge going on in GoodReads.com and my goal is to read 40 books in a year. I am not even at the 10 book mark and it’s July. I have the time to read; it’s just that sometimes I just don’t have the concentration because of my illness. I don’t carry a book to Starbucks anymore because I never read there. I just write in my journal. I don’t even write in general anymore while I am there. If I have a plan, which is rare, I usually carry it out. But lately, I just want my iced coffee, write in my journal for an hour, and then go home. I haven’t brought the psychology book that I bought a few months ago to Starbucks in weeks. Maybe I will try that this week.

A Triggering Day

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, depression, mood disorders

A Triggering Day

I have been feeling paranoid for most of the day. It started while I was at Starbucks writing in my journal. There was a congregation of people behind me while waiting for their coffee, talking loudly as I could hear them through my headphones, which was also playing loudly. I had to keep watching my back as I was fearful of these people. I just wanted them to get their coffee and leave. They must have talked for about 15-20 minutes before dispersing. I was rattled. There was no way I could calm myself down. Least not with a venti coffee. I had no meds but the voices were talking loudly too so that helped. I knew they wouldn’t allow someone to hurt me if they were around.

I went off to see my pdoc. She was late, as usual. I told her I was paranoid and didn’t trust anyone. She asked if I felt threatened by her and I asked, should I be? I did ask if she was going to kill me and she adamantly said no. That made me feel like I could trust her. We talked and she knew I was being distracted by the voices in my head. She kept trying to make conversation with me when I got quiet. She wanted to see me next week but I had reserved the zipcar and it was too complicated for her so I will see her in three weeks. I was still hearing voices and she was okay with me stopping the abilify.

I got home and soon as I walked in the door, Walgreens texted me saying my prescription was ready. They told me it was going to be a half hour wait so I went home to change and to pee as I couldn’t wait that long. I also wanted to cool off some with the AC as I was hot. It’s in the 70s today.

After I got home from that trip, I was going to stay put until the UPS guy showed up with my new toy. I am still waiting for it. While I was waiting I did my thing by reading Twitter. A person who does the PTSD chat posted something about ISIS and I immediately got triggered and paranoid worse than what I was already. I nearly had a panic attack. I couldn’t believe what she posted. Just thinking about the pic she posted is giving me paranoia again. I took my last trilafon and then emailed my pdoc saying I was triggered and needed trilafon stat. Abilify doesn’t do anything for the paranoia. And the voices would flip on me if I took it because it is poison in their eyes. I still am shaken up.

I checked the pharmacy and my doc did call in the trilafon. Soon as it’s ready, I will make my 3rd trip to walgreens today. Speaking of the devil, I just received a text saying it’s ready just now. I will go after I finish this blog. My package was delivered as well.

I was just getting calm when I figure I scroll through Facebook. Bad idea. Half way down, there was another damn post about ISIS attacking the gay community or something to that affect. I really need trilafon. I might page my psych later tonight because I am going out of my tree. I got a necklace around my neck that is protecting me from the parasites. I didn’t tell my pdoc about it when I saw her today because she already knows I am off my rocker. She did like the necklace though.

In other news, the Sox called up a rookie pitcher that is pitching tonight. I really want to see him pitch because he is supposed to be really good. It will be the first game I have watched in weeks. I hope NESN doesn’t have a 3 man crew or I will just listen to the game on the radio. I hate when they have 3 broadcasters, two are former players and 1 is the play by play man. It is so annoying with the analysis of the pitch or play. Just repetitive.

I had to report UPS today because my package was delayed for tomorrow’s delivery. The package was delivered to my town and then shipped out west for some reason. I am told it has been corrected and it’s still on for a Saturday delivery by the postal service so we’ll see.