proud

I'm so ridiculously proud of myself tonight.  I brought up a subject that I've been struggling with a lot lately in therapy today.  It was so hard to bring up, and I stumbled and stuttered and muttered around, but I brought it up.

It's a pretty big deal for me.  It seems silly, and one should be able to talk about anything in therapy, but that's not me.  And therapy started, and we made small talk and talked about the holidays, and I thought I could carry on and not bring up the topic I was avoiding.

Then, I just told her I had something to talk about that was really difficult for me.  She was patient, kind and just let me ramble, for what seemed like forever.  (I have to give her credit - someone pussy footing around like I was would drive me insane.  Totally not a profession I could ever do!)

And finally, I spit it out.  It's not even someone I would post on here, but I guess I feel better about it.  At the very least, I talked with someone who wasn't judgemental about it, and just listened to me.  She wasn't (at least that I could tell) horrified or appalled by it.  She just listened, and offered a perspective I hadn't thought of.

I guess, it's still there and still something that worries me.  But it's not a burden that I am carrying all by myself.  I'm going to be ok.

When everything is quiet, who do you think about?

I think about MS.  I think about what it's done to me and how much I dislike it.

I think about work.  I think about sites that I have a problem at, or sites that need some help.  I think about the staff struggling at the moment, or the kids that are struggling.  I think about everything I have to do on my to-do list.

I wonder if I'm destined to be lonely.

I think about my mom.  I think about the regrets I have, my last times with her, my favorite times I've spent with her, the things she has taught me.

I think about my dad.  I think about his health failing him and how I'm very scared I will one day have to think of him like my mom.

I think about my brother and how responsible and compassionate he has grown to be.  He amazes me frequently.

I think about my sister and her pregnancy.  I worry about her and the baby and I'm sad to be so far away from her during the time.

I think about finances and what bills are coming up. I try to figure out how I'm going to pay them all.

I think about personal things in my life that I need to get done.  Generally, it's cleaning, sending mail, getting an oil change, putting laundry away, taking clothes to Goodwill.

I think about therapy.  I think about the topics that I need to address and I figure out how to bring them up.  I think about how often I think about death in that particular day, week or month.  Then I think about how pessimistic I'm being, and try to put a positive spin on it.

Then I think that I hate quiet time and stop it.  That might be turning on the TV, radio, going online, something, because when everything is quiet, my mind always goes a bad way.

long overdue post about Adam Lanza and mental health

I am Adam Lanza's mother

I think the horrible day at Sandy Brook Elementary School was one of the worst mass shootings in history.  The entire thing, from beginning to end, is not understandable.

What has come out of it, has been an increased debate in gun control and mumblings about access to mental health care being easier.

I am in support of both those things.  I don't believe guns should be as accessible as they are.  There is certainly no reason for a regular person to own an automatic or semi-automatic weapon.

And mental health.  I'm still seeing a therapist.  I'm lucky, I guess.  I have health insurance and they cover me to see her.  Not everyone is that lucky.  I know if it wasn't covered, I could probably look up to find therapists that were low cost, or no cost, but really, that would be a lot of work.  I've started to look before, and the process was so time consuming that I gave up.

Now that I have health insurance, I looked at their website for therapists, found one, called her, and got an appointment.  I feel like I mesh with her, so I keep going.

I struggle, frequently with MS, my mother's death and general feeling poorly about myself.  She would tell you depression, but after working with teenage girls, that word just annoys me now.  I feel like its overused by society, but her use of it is clinical, so I guess it's ok.

Anyway, the thought of people talking about therapy, and making it less taboo, well, I think that's great.  Very few people know I go to therapy.   I worry about what they would think of it - some would be ok with it, others might judge me for it.  With the topic of mental health making headlines is good - to get the topic out there, it always worries me.

What if now, after this conversation, it becomes the norm to think of therapy as for people who will become potential shooters.  What if it seems like it's not just for the normal person who is struggling with something, but for people who are about to go off the deep end?  In my thinking, Adam Lanza must have been stable at some point.  What was it that made it do what he did?  Could therapy and/or medication have prevented it?

I don't know.

Dreams are free therapy, consult your inner Freud.

I haven't updated much about therapy lately.  I still struggle with it.  In many ways, I still feel like I hold back and censor myself, which then, of course leads me to believe that it isn't working and it just becomes a vicious cycle.

However, last week in therapy, I talked about how I've been feeling so stagnant lately.  I've just felt nothing - good or bad.  I also mentioned that I don't think I dream - or at least don't remember the dreams.

This leads me to, a long time ago, I read a blog by someone that was in therapy.  She was talking about the homework her therapist gave her.  It sounded interesting.  Ok, I can be the true dork I am here.  It sounded cool.  When I read about it, I kind of wished my therapist gave me homework.

She never has, not even mentioned it.  But the inner dork in me would actually like it.

Back to my story - that night, after therapy last week, I had a dream, that I remembered in the morning (!) that my therapist gave me homework and I was doing it.  One assignment had to do with drawing with my eyes closed.  I was brilliantly talented in artwork with my eyes closed.

I woke up rather happy.  From the homework and from the art.  It was cool and quite a feeling.

Anyway, I mentioned it today, although I didn't quite explain how great it made me feel.  I don't want to be the dork that points out how much I'd enjoy homework.  But, I would.  So, I found some myself.  Some are even too dorky for me (the one that tells you to print positive messages out and hang them on your mirror to read daily) but others I found, I think will be kind of helpful.

Perhaps, I'll even mention to her that I found them.

World Mental Health Day

 

It's Thursday.  Thursday means I'm visiting my therapist.

I often think about what we will talk about Wednesday night.  Sometimes, I forgot I'm going and then stress about what to think of.  I usually have an idea, but often try to avoid talking about that as long as I can.

I enjoy hearing about her.  She's starting her own private practice, and I find it fascinating.  Eventually, when it gets big, I imagine I won't see her anymore.  That thought kind of makes me sad, but for now, I'm not worried about it.  With some luck, I won't need to see her anymore by then anyway.

Tomorrow is my next visit.  I haven't been feeling physically well lately, MS related and most likely a kidney infection.  I'm choosing not to treat it.  That's totally a mental health issue and while I'd be content to bring it up, I know I really should.

I don't know what she is going to say.  I'm quite positive she will want me to call my doctor.  I know she won't understand why I don't want to, and if I try to explain it, I'm going to end up crying.  I realize therapy is a great place to cry and yadda yadda yadda, but I HATE crying in there.   She doesn't judge or anything if I do, just offers some Kleenex, but still, I HATE it.  It feels awkward and ridiculous.

I'm going to have to find the courage to bring this up tomorrow - and then hope for the best. I can't even predict where or how the conversation will go.

If you can find a path without obstacles, it probably doesn't lead anywhere.

I don't know what the hell is wrong with me.

That's not true, actually, I do.  I have MS.  That's what is wrong with me.  I'm not positive if that is what is going on, but it probably is.

The thing is, my thinking, my logic is so skewed about it right now.  My lower back hurts.  A lot.  It's probably my kidneys and its probably cause I'm having issues peeing again.  That's all a guess, but a fairly educated one.

My left arm is numb too.  Both of these things are a pretty good sign a relapse is in my future.  I'm flipping pissed.  I can't deal with that.  I don't want to deal with that.  I'm on this stupid medication to avoid this from happening.

THIS SHOULD NOT BE HAPPENING.  Hell, I'm doing a job that isn't my love, because of stupid MS.  It's not that hard.  I want to be doing the harder job.  I can't do an easy job and have this MS crap going on.

And I forgot to bring my happy pills while I'm dog sitting, so I haven't taken them in the last 3 days.  I don't know how long it takes to experience withdrawal, but it may be a contributing factor to my mood.

Here's my thoughts.  Let's say its a kidney infection again.  I'm ignoring it.  That will lead to kidney failure.  I'll ignore that too.  Eventually, I'd die.  It's like the easy way to end my life.  I'm ok with that.  In fact, I'd welcome it.

And thinking that scares the bejesus out of me.  Not enough to do anything about it, but enough.  I suppose this is something I should discuss in therapy this week, but I'm very confident my therapist will disagree with me.

I'm a quitter

I quit therapy today.  Well, sort of.

I didn't actually quit as much as just not make an appointment next week.  I'm pretty sure that I'm not going to make a follow up.  My reasons are very valid, but not entirely everything.

I think the whole process is so complicated.  I have MS.  I'm dealing with it.  That should be enough.

In the book of life, the answers arn't in the back. -Charlie Brown

I've had MS almost 2 years now.  It'll be my two year anniversary on the one year anniversary of my mom's death.  That's gonna be kinda weird.  But, as far as MS is concerned, I've learned a lot.  I enjoy talking to folks who are newly diagnosed, or close to a diagnosis.

Since I got MS, I have learned that sometimes, I just have to suck it up and move along.  I can't expect to always feel good, but if I can keep my head on right, I feel better.

That's not always easy.  I catch myself feeling sorry for myself far more often than I would like to.  I catch myself using MS as an excuse when I'm tired or lazy.

But, things are getting better.  I would say I have more good days than bad days now.  I would say the biggest challenge for me with MS is my mental health, but I'm learning how to cope.  The physical symptoms are easier to deal with then the mental ones, but I'm learning.

I attribute a lot of that to my therapist.  She's pretty cool. 

Her name is Danielle - Danielle D'amato -  if anyone is looking for a great therapist in Massachusetts.  There's been quite a few times when I see something, and I can only see it in this tunnel vision mindset.  She calls it a black or white thinking, but then she brings up another side of it, or another way of looking at it, and I leave feeling shocked.  Except, she's right and its all in the way I am approaching something.  And all of a sudden things feel so much clearer and much more logical.

She has many locations, mine in Western MA and then another near where I used to live.  Then, she's opening her own place someplace completely different.  It's kind of impressive.  I personally would be terrified of all that, but it seems to suit her.

She's young.  I figure kind of idealistic.  The way I used to be - her about therapy, me about camping.  I miss that thought process.  When I thought anything was possible.  Then this whole MS thing hit, and all that idealism was shattered.  I feel like maybe, its coming back.  Perhaps with a bit more realism, but it's totally coming back.


Some days I feel broken.  Completely broken in spirit, mind and body.  When I tell her about it though, whatever it was seems ridiculous - and it really was.  I started thinking she should "fix" me, but really, it's about me changing my thinking.  She's not really fixing me, just adjusting how I process things. 

“Our wounds are often the openings into the best and most beautiful part of us.” ― David Richo

I've still been going to therapy.  In many ways, its useful, just in the day to day, week to week stuff.  There's nothing she can say or do to make the bad feelings of MS go away, but I can think of it differently. 

Last week, we were talking about my life and what interests me.  I said my job was everything.  It is.  It's pretty much all I am, and all I identify with.  I feel life would be over if I didn't have it.

She started to brainstorm others things to do, that I could be engaged with.  She wanted ideas of other things to add to my life that would keep me excited - about living - I suppose.  I started to think of some things I have enjoyed previously, but nothing really made me excited.

Then I thought of square dancing.  I loved it when I did it.  I was probably 40 years younger than everyone else, but I had so much fun!  I said it.

I think, at first, she was trying to figure out if I was serious.  Then, when she concluded I was, I could almost see her thinking, "I will not judge my client, I will not just my client, I will not judge my client."

During the whole process, I was thinking she didn't get.  She didn't get the problem in the first place.  Coming up with this list was easier than trying to explain myself.  Except, when I got home, I thought about it. I thought a lot about it.  The thought of doing something else in life made me excited. 

I started to look up square dancing.  I found a club near me - for singles even.  I didn't have to have a partner to join.  I wrote to them.  I'm going to start square dance lessons in October.  I'm looking forward to it!

I was too happy driving and too angry to drive home

So, therapy has been a little stagnant the last few weeks.  I've just been content to not talk about the important stuff, and perfectly happy to make "small talk" and what not. 

Today though, I just found the courage to do it, and we talked about quite a few things that were really important.  I feel good just getting them out there, even if its just on the surface.

beat the heat - in a pool :)

It was a great 4th of July.  I'm far too exhausted for fireworks this evening, but all in all, it was a great day.  I'm dogsitting at the house with a pool, and a couple of friends came over.  We grilled, we swam, got lots of sun.  It was a great day!

I'm slightly sunburned now.  Here's the thing - I often get a little pink when I spend an extended amount of time in a bathing suit.  Mostly, my upper arms and back, where tshirts normally cover.  Anyway, I've noticed this summer, that when I am sunburned, I feel so good.  I mean, the sunburn itself isn't nice, but health wise - I feel better than I have in a long time.

When I'm hot, there are issues, but once I cool down, it's like I don't have MS anymore.  Vision is fine, I'm not dizzy and most especially, my emotional state is excellent.  I don't know if that is normal for MS, but for me it is.

I have a doctors appointment tomorrow.  I'm a little nervous since its the followup from the 3 MRI's.  These are the first ones done since I was diagnosed.  I'll find out if there are more leisons or if they are bigger.  I know that whatever it is, it is, and it doesn't directly relate to what symptoms I have, but I'm still nervous.

I'm also seeing my therapist tomorrow, for the first time in a while.  One week I couldn't go, then she was on vacation, so basically, I've had 3 therapy-free weeks.  I'm not gonna lie.  I kind of liked that.  But tomorrow will be good, especially if I get bad news tomorrow from the neurologist.

Secrets are too shameful, painful, terrifying, overwhelming, disintegrating and unbearable to speak out loud in case it makes it real, in case we have to relive them all over again.

I've been talking with my therapist quite a lot about the things I don't want to share with her.

The plus side of this is that I'm able to be pretty straight up with her about the fact that I'm not sharing everything.

And I'm not really lying. I'm just leaving out pertinent information. I'll eventually get to it though. Or at least so far I have.

She was concerned about why I feel the need to leave stuff out. There's 16 million reasons really. I didn't have one for her though.

She asked if I felt I needed to entertain her.

No. I mean I don't want to be a boring client, but I'm not worried about making her day. I do worry about being tiresome or hard headed though. If its something we already talked about and I'm still feeling or doing it again, then I feel like I'm an idiot and she's gonna get bored of the same thing over and over.

I don't go to therapy to find out if I'm a freak

I don't think I'm really strong enough for this therapy thing.

I wondered if that was how forgiveness budded, not with the fanfare of epiphany, but with pain gathering its things, packing up, and slipping away unannounced in the middle of the night.

This is why I don’t read.  I start a book, and I cannot put it down until its done, no matter what else I have to do.  I started reading this book at 5pm.  I read until it was done at 10:30.

I got some books from the library.  I browse the catalog online, and then they ship them from surrounding libraries and can just pick them up  from the desk.  When I’m there, I always check out the displays they have.  Frequently, the best books I have found are not ones I heard about from someone, but a book that caught my eye on display.

Today was no excecption.  There was a book I spotted and in looking at the description, it didn’t seem like the kind of book I would read.  It set it down and kept looking.

I kept going back to it though.  Multiple times.  Finally, I just took it with the thought that if I started reading it and hated it, I’d just read one of the other books I had.  Or, I had so many, maybe I’d never get to it and just return it.

As I was checking out, the woman remarked upon this particular book.  “The Kite Runner.  Oh, this is such a good book.  You’ll be sobbing.”

Huh?  True, I was attempting to get a crying book.  I haven’t cried in forever, but felt like I needed to cry since the hospital.  No matter what, I haven’t been able to.  Even the saddest movies I know (PS I Love You, My Sister’s Keeper) have been unable to make me shed a tear.  I feel – hard I guess.  I just wanted to cry.

So of course, I get home and crack open this book.  I was hooked instantly.  But, it wasn’t a crying book for me – the story.

Randomly though, there would be a line or a paragraph, that would spark something.  It didn’t have anything to do with the story, but everything to do with my life. It started in the very first chapter.

That was a long time ago, but it’s wrong what they say about the past, I’ve learned about you can bury it.  Because the past claw’s its way out.

It kept happening, over and over.  Little things, would set me off.  Don’t get me wrong – it felt so good to finally cry, but it was also this moment of clarity.  I had to figure out what it was that was making me cry.  I feel like I was forced to pay attention, not just to cry, but to figure out what I was crying about.  I think therapy made me think I need to do that…

My favorite postsecrets

I find postsecret like a big connection.  There's always some secrets I relate to.  Others I think are super intriguing and they make me want to learn more about humanity.  Some are funny, scary, taboo, or just downright sad.  No matter what they are, I love reading them every Sunday.

“Writing is a form of therapy; sometimes I wonder how all those, who do not write, compose, or paint can manage to escape the madness, the melancholia, the panic fear, which is inherent in a human condition”

Sundays are my typical think about my life, stress, have anxiety, etc.

Lately, Sundays have been thinking about therapy.  I wonder what my therapist would say to the things I’m thinking.  I’m good at telling her things in my head.  I’m not very good at knowing how she’ll respond.  I know it will be positive and “the glass is half full” kind of things, but I don’t really know what she will specifically say.  I will say, if she could bill me for all the time I spend thinking about her, she’s be a freaken billionaire.

That brings me to transference.  I’ve read a lot about it while I’m googling for things.  According to what I’ve read, I should either wish she was my mother and love me unconditionally, or have romantic feelings towards her.

First, she’s younger than me, so the mother thing just doesn’t pan out for me.  The romance – I’m a little skeptical about that too.  First, I don’t think she knows I’m a lesbian.  I’ve never actually said, “oh, I’m a lesbian.”  She could quite possibility have figured it out, and I’m sure it will come up at some point, but in the mean time, I’m not inclined to make it a big deal out of it.

As for her – I don’t think I even have a crush on her.  She’s cool, don’t get me wrong.  I think about her a lot, which is typically the signs of a crush.  But I don’t think of her in that capacity.  I don’t think of her in the bedroom, so to speak.  She’s totally my type – pretty low maintenance, no make-up, kind of thing, but she’s my therapist.  I think she’d be cool to hang out with, as a friend, but that’s about it.  And even that – I’m grateful she lives rather far away from me.  I’ll never accidently run into her at the grocery store or gas station – and that’s a good thing.  It would be so awkward. 

Now, moving on, I generally come up with some categories of things stressing me out or occupying my mind for when we meet.  The day we actually meet, I’m surprisingly calm and level headed, so its good for me to have things on my mind that had been a problem, even if that day they aren’t bothering me.

Today, I’ve kind of made even broader categories than normal.  It’s just feeling like the things left to talk about are the really difficult ones.  The things I don’t even want to admit to myself, never mind out loud, to another person.

First, I want to talk about termination.  I’ve never actually terminated with a therapist the correct way.  I’ve always just stopped going.  I generally feel guilty about that.  I want to do it right.

The reasons behind wanting to terminate is the part that makes me think that termination is the last thing I should be thinking about.  I want to terminate because I don’t want to deal with the rest of it.  I want her to think she’s helped me (which she has) and that’s it.  I want to be normal.  I don’t want to go to therapy weekly, and I don’t want to be taking antidepressants.  I want her to think I’m healed.   The logical next step is for me to tell her all the things I don’t want anyone to know…professional or not. 

I’m also scared of feeling this dependence on her.  I think about her all the time.  I don’t think that’s helpful or moving forward in any kind of direction.  I think that’s ridiculous.  I’m afraid it’s going to be get worse.  I’m kind of scared to have a crush on her.  Whether or not that’s normal, I think its unhealthy. 

I also don’t want to talk about the rest of it.  I feel like I’ve got a good handle on the immediate reasons that brought me there in the first place.  I can cope with the little daily things much better now then when I first started going.  The downside of that though, is that there’s other stuff, that I avoid even thinking about.   Without having to think about the daily things, my mind of course wanders to those.  In many ways, I don’t want to share those with her, because I know she will find a way for me to positively deal with them.  One would assume that’s a good thing.

I want to punish myself by having those things there without any resolution though.  I want to feel guilty about them.  I know that no matter how much good I do in this world, I didn’t speak up during those times when I should have, and I should feel bad about it.  This may sound crazy, but I feel  I deserve to suffer with them for the rest of my life.

April 3, 2012

Today would have been my mom's 63rd birthday. It's the first birthday since she passed. The day was not as difficult as I thought it would be.

I've been going kinda nuts since Saturday. I've never had a panic attack, but it kind of felt like a big long 48 hour panic attack. I seem to think panic attacks can't last that long, but it was definitly weird. I couldn't think, function, anything.

That's when I started fretting about everything with therapy. I know the exact issues that keeps pestering me. I also know, I never bring it up. I feel like, if I just do, I might be able to move past it.

I texted a friend on Monday morning. I asked her if it was weird for me to call my therapist to schedule an appointment for this week. I didn't have one this week (I've been going every two weeks). She responded and said that is what I was suppose to do. She said they knew issues didn't just come up every two weeks.

So, I called her. I was in a very precarious place, and couldn't speak much without crying. I got her voicemail. I left a message, that wasn't detailed, but said I wanted to know if she had any openings this week. She's only at the office in my town one day a week, so its pretty logical she might be full.

Anyway, she called me back. I was pretty brief, but scheduled an appointment. Now, for bringing up everything I've been thinking. I've toyed with the idea of writing her a letter, but that feels odd.

The good news, is that she knows this isn't regularly scheduled. If fact, I've said specifically, I didn't need to come every week. So, at the very least I'll have to explain the reasoning.

I've narrowed down all the immediate concerns to 5 specific things. I don't actually think we'll get to talk about all 5, but if I get them out, at least she'll know if I'm avoiding them in the future. Hopefully, we can talk about one or two of them Thursday.

Here's hoping.

Spring sprung, then left

I've not updated in quite some time. That's partially because I'm pretty good and things are stable and partly cause I feel so miserable I don't even want to write it.

So, I've been seeing this therapist now for a few months. I really like her. She's easy to talk and I find her input on things very helpful. She's not all "how do you feel about that?" but actually chimes in with her own stories and experiences. I enjoy talking to her.

The problem is, I don't actually talk to her about the real problems. I talk about work and problems there and that sort of thing, but really, its pretty basic stuff that I can handle.

The real problems - they are much harder to just bring up. And if I don't bring them up, we dont' talk about them. Last week, I had decided that I really wanted to start to bring up the real stuff going on. I knew it was going to be impossible to bring up. So, I thought about writing it down, in a letter to her.

That's was a great idea until I pictured actually giving her the letter. That's when I decided not to write the letter and just be ballsy enough to bring it up. I didn't.

Now, its high on my mind again, and I've got to find a way to bring it up.

superbowl? I don't like baseball.

It's superbowl Sunday. That means everyone I know is watching the game. I, on the other hand, am catching up on Tivo. I like the commercials, but I can watch them online later, without all the pesky football in between.

I learned, or rather remembered something today. A long time ago, I was seeing a therapist. I was seeing her for a variety of things, but mainly that I was struggling with despression.

She was nice enough. I kept going, but really wondered how effective it was.

Then one day I had my appointment while some camp folks were staying at my house. They were from Australia, had traveled the country after camp, and were staying with me for a few days before flying home. I brought them with me to this appointment, because it was in downtown West Hartford. There were lots of stores and such and they'd have fun shopping.

As we got there, we noticed that most of the stores were closed. It was a Monday night, and they apparently closed at 6. I wasn't sure what they would do, but they saw a bar that was open. We laughed, as they were sterotypical Aussies, and were always willing to kill time in a bar.

As I walked into my appointment, I was laughing to myself (and probably talking to myself too!). This office was inside an indoor shopping plaza. There were various stores (all closed), plus the doors for this office. Outside the office, there was a little wall, with stones and plants behind it. Typical mall decor.

Anyway, as I'm walking, I notice that I smell smoke. Cigarette smoke, which is odd, cause I'm indoors. Definitly a no smoking place. I saw my therapist sitting on the wall, smoking a cigarette.

That is totally against the rules, I'm sure. It was cool. And I was still laughing from the previous interaction with my friends. We went up to her office, and she commented on the complete change of mood in me.

That brings me to today. I spent most of yesterday feeling sorry for myself. Annoyed with life, MS and all that is entailed. I've thought a lot about my upcoming neurologist appointment, and what exactly I'm going to say to her. Not much productive happened.

Then this morning, I had a plan to meet a friend for breakfast at Friendly's. She not a particularly close friend, but we organized it. Just going out for an hour was amazing for my mood. I feel like I am thinking more clearly and definitly in a better space.

Friends is the solution to depression. I'm convinced.