This post is set to self destruct in T-10Ds…as am I. I should also warn you that it this is a very insane crazybrain ranting that you should ignore altogether. I, on the other hand, cannot ignore it, since it is happening INSIDE OF ME! Oh how I wish it were not so…. I have been sitting here for 30 minutes methodically cutting vicodin and seroquel in half and listening to this fucking new-age relaxation music and I cannot relax. Go figure!
LINK TO READ: Boo-fing-hoo
Showing posts with label Humiliation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Humiliation. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Grace has a plan
As I said yesterday I’ve been in a bit of a quandary about the therapist’s upcoming vacation. I did talk to her about how I took her phrase of, “Well maybe we shouldn’t talk until after I get back.” I told her it hurt my feelings and I didn’t really understand how that would be helpful after I had just told her that I am really not doing well right now, and I feel like I have very minimal support outside of her. I get that I need to have a support system in place, and that I can’t “rely” on the therapist for that support. But the problem is, most of my “support system” is in exactly the same position I am in and the support we’ll probably be able to provide is something to the effect of, “Yeah, I’m in the same boat. She knew I had no support when she left. Screw it! I can’t live like this anymore. You send me 20 percocet and I’ll send you 20 seroquel and we’ll skype and take them together watch the Vrigin Suicides and leave *quietly*.” Anyway, so I told her how I felt about what she said and she told me that she did say it, but that she said it out of a place of frustration because she feels helpless. And she was talking about phone support. And she said we should talk about developing a plan together for her absence.
I got to thinking about her feeling frustrated and helpless and then that trauma therapist’s voice starts chiming in, reminding me that I can’t tell the therapist I feel suicidal or depend on her to help me, because that’s considered *holding her hostage* and that’s not fair.” And then those other voices, you know the ones, the ones that tell me I am a manipulative bitch who should just straighten up or I’ll get something to really cry about . His voice, “You are worthless anyway. No one cares about you – you are bad and evil and you are worth nothing. Just a whore. That’s all you are. No one will ever love you.” and others….
And then I did some research on the internet, the whole, “How to get through the T vacation” (especially important when they take 4 or 5 a year!!!!! ) and I read an excerpt about a therapist who had a suicidal client when he was leaving for vacation and so he asked her to give him 30 minutes of lead time before jumping from a bridge so he could call the fire department and they could put out a net to catch her. When she seemed puzzled, he went on to say, “If you threaten me with something so outrageous as suicide and show such little ability to handle a MINOR stress like a 2 week absence…” And I realized that is exactly what our feelings mean to them. We make a big deal out of something so “MINOR” and we are just being ridiculous. So Grace, shut up and behave! Grow up, you are such a stupid whiny worthless piece of trash….bad…unlovable.
I felt much better about my decision to shut it all down after reading that we are all just *drama* making a big deal out of a *minor* situation. And obviously, that’s what I was doing by being HONEST about how I FEEL emotionally right now…and my honesty lead the therapist to feel frustrated and helpless. That’s not fair to her because she should be able to go and enjoy her FORTH WEEK OFF this year – and so I’m done talking about it.
She was really nice …offering to “come up with a plan” but what would be the point. What’s going to happen is going to happen and I can’t be all drama anymore over something so trivial…like hang-nail kinda pain. None of which is her problem. So get over it drama freak – you’re ruining the therapist’s vacation! Grown up Grace has a whole bucket full of shit that will shut the kid up…no worries! She won’t be able to whine and cry over such a trivial thing like the therapist’s 2 week vacation. (I hate that crying dependent shit that brat pulls anyway! I’m happy to take charge!)
Grace is going on vacation too! I know I’ll be fucked up and unable to concentrate or do anything really, so I’m going to take the time off of work, and just hole up here at the homestead – alone. That way I’m not *bothering* anyone else with my *minor* attachment disorder and childish *fears of abandonment*. It’ll be awesome! I’ll stock up on all of the things I will need so I don’t have to shower, get dressed, or leave the house.
Grace has a *plan*. Yay me.
LINK to Grace new Website: Grace has a plan
I got to thinking about her feeling frustrated and helpless and then that trauma therapist’s voice starts chiming in, reminding me that I can’t tell the therapist I feel suicidal or depend on her to help me, because that’s considered *holding her hostage* and that’s not fair.” And then those other voices, you know the ones, the ones that tell me I am a manipulative bitch who should just straighten up or I’ll get something to really cry about . His voice, “You are worthless anyway. No one cares about you – you are bad and evil and you are worth nothing. Just a whore. That’s all you are. No one will ever love you.” and others….
And then I did some research on the internet, the whole, “How to get through the T vacation” (especially important when they take 4 or 5 a year!!!!! ) and I read an excerpt about a therapist who had a suicidal client when he was leaving for vacation and so he asked her to give him 30 minutes of lead time before jumping from a bridge so he could call the fire department and they could put out a net to catch her. When she seemed puzzled, he went on to say, “If you threaten me with something so outrageous as suicide and show such little ability to handle a MINOR stress like a 2 week absence…” And I realized that is exactly what our feelings mean to them. We make a big deal out of something so “MINOR” and we are just being ridiculous. So Grace, shut up and behave! Grow up, you are such a stupid whiny worthless piece of trash….bad…unlovable.
I felt much better about my decision to shut it all down after reading that we are all just *drama* making a big deal out of a *minor* situation. And obviously, that’s what I was doing by being HONEST about how I FEEL emotionally right now…and my honesty lead the therapist to feel frustrated and helpless. That’s not fair to her because she should be able to go and enjoy her FORTH WEEK OFF this year – and so I’m done talking about it.
She was really nice …offering to “come up with a plan” but what would be the point. What’s going to happen is going to happen and I can’t be all drama anymore over something so trivial…like hang-nail kinda pain. None of which is her problem. So get over it drama freak – you’re ruining the therapist’s vacation! Grown up Grace has a whole bucket full of shit that will shut the kid up…no worries! She won’t be able to whine and cry over such a trivial thing like the therapist’s 2 week vacation. (I hate that crying dependent shit that brat pulls anyway! I’m happy to take charge!)
Grace is going on vacation too! I know I’ll be fucked up and unable to concentrate or do anything really, so I’m going to take the time off of work, and just hole up here at the homestead – alone. That way I’m not *bothering* anyone else with my *minor* attachment disorder and childish *fears of abandonment*. It’ll be awesome! I’ll stock up on all of the things I will need so I don’t have to shower, get dressed, or leave the house.
Grace has a *plan*. Yay me.
LINK to Grace new Website: Grace has a plan
She never stopped crying
She never stopped crying…and I am sick. Secrets too terrible to be spoken…every part of my mind and body are aching. His words mock me, constantly repeating in my mind. He is dead and I am still haunted, tortured , paralyzed with fear. My body is so sore and not just physically…poison is eating me from the inside out. It is so not okay to be me right now.
I exist in two places at once now. The hus has suddenly stumbled upon some newly found sexual energy and as I am spending most nights in a past filled with hell, he wants to spend most nights with me, in the present…like every night. And the problem is I can’t be there or here because the lines get blurred. I’m all over the place. And it usually doesn’t end well.
I spend half the day trying to escape the fb follies and then I spend the evening trying to fight off the anxiety about my current situation, now as an adult. So that’s how it goes, the day: wake up after a couple of hours of sleep, fight the follies all day (which typically means minimal concentration, lots of dissociation, headaches, nausea and vomiting, random crying) spend the late afternoon and evening consumed with anxiety about the possibility that the hus will want to have sex, if so – pray to either get through it without crying or get through it and not be there, spend the next several hours watching scary movies/crying/hurting/not being present. It is so not cool to be me.
Take last night, for instance. The hus is on vacation so he was up late. Grace’s anxiety was off the charts because that typically means he wants to have sex. Then try distraction which, in turn, lead to heading back to the past over a freakin’ lollipop! She never stops crying…
On minute I’m trying to use the big ‘distraction skills’ the next minute I’m falling…I cant breathe! I don’t know where I am. All I feel is pain. Pain that reaches all the way to my fingertips and makes my chest throb. And then I am angry. Then I hate myself, that kid, the past. Then comes the frustration at not being able to calm down…followed by the “I AM CRAZY” screaming, followed by the “bad thoughts” we don’t speak of. And I can’t make it stop.
How do you stop that? Oh! That’s right, distraction and “thought stopping”. Or a shitload of benzos and booze. One minute I’m watching Shirley Temple singing, “Good ship, lollipop” in her cute little 5 year old body, chubby cheeks and curly hair…singing in her short little dress and matching short shorts. The next minute I AM Shirley Temple…and my singing is interrupted by HIS voice, “Gracie, my sugar coated lollipop is ready for you…” WTF! I don’t want it! I want to go to sleep! “You make me do this…this candy is only for you.” And it hurts! But he won’t let me move.
I’m frozen. That fight or flight ‘theory’ is complete BS. I am frozen. I’m hurting. The pain is real..splitting me apart, screaming in my head…pain, confusion, shame….it’s real. I’m not good at this…I’m not dealing with any of this.
LINK to Grace's new Website: She never stopped crying
I exist in two places at once now. The hus has suddenly stumbled upon some newly found sexual energy and as I am spending most nights in a past filled with hell, he wants to spend most nights with me, in the present…like every night. And the problem is I can’t be there or here because the lines get blurred. I’m all over the place. And it usually doesn’t end well.
I spend half the day trying to escape the fb follies and then I spend the evening trying to fight off the anxiety about my current situation, now as an adult. So that’s how it goes, the day: wake up after a couple of hours of sleep, fight the follies all day (which typically means minimal concentration, lots of dissociation, headaches, nausea and vomiting, random crying) spend the late afternoon and evening consumed with anxiety about the possibility that the hus will want to have sex, if so – pray to either get through it without crying or get through it and not be there, spend the next several hours watching scary movies/crying/hurting/not being present. It is so not cool to be me.
Take last night, for instance. The hus is on vacation so he was up late. Grace’s anxiety was off the charts because that typically means he wants to have sex. Then try distraction which, in turn, lead to heading back to the past over a freakin’ lollipop! She never stops crying…
On minute I’m trying to use the big ‘distraction skills’ the next minute I’m falling…I cant breathe! I don’t know where I am. All I feel is pain. Pain that reaches all the way to my fingertips and makes my chest throb. And then I am angry. Then I hate myself, that kid, the past. Then comes the frustration at not being able to calm down…followed by the “I AM CRAZY” screaming, followed by the “bad thoughts” we don’t speak of. And I can’t make it stop.
How do you stop that? Oh! That’s right, distraction and “thought stopping”. Or a shitload of benzos and booze. One minute I’m watching Shirley Temple singing, “Good ship, lollipop” in her cute little 5 year old body, chubby cheeks and curly hair…singing in her short little dress and matching short shorts. The next minute I AM Shirley Temple…and my singing is interrupted by HIS voice, “Gracie, my sugar coated lollipop is ready for you…” WTF! I don’t want it! I want to go to sleep! “You make me do this…this candy is only for you.” And it hurts! But he won’t let me move.
I’m frozen. That fight or flight ‘theory’ is complete BS. I am frozen. I’m hurting. The pain is real..splitting me apart, screaming in my head…pain, confusion, shame….it’s real. I’m not good at this…I’m not dealing with any of this.
LINK to Grace's new Website: She never stopped crying
Give ME you anger...NO!
That’s what the therapist said to me today. She told me that she would rather I be angry at her than myself. Whatever… I am NOT angry at her. It isn’t her fault that the 5 year old is screaming in fear and abandonment that she’s going on vacation. I’m not angry at the therapist, I’m angry at the parts of ME who depend on her and care about her and need her. That’s who I’m angry with….ME – for allowing someone else “in” our world…for allowing someone else to see some of our pain and past. Angry…angry…angry…for letting someone on the outside “in”. She didn’t do that…I did that. Therapist didn’t put a gun to our head and say, “Depend on me! Attach to me! Love me!” Nope…that was all that bratty kid who actually thought someone cared about her for once in her stupid life. Get over it brat! I’ll show you what “love” is!
But there’s no reason to be angry with the therapist about something I did.
Then she tells me that I have all the “choices” to meet my needs within my reach. That made me feel like a whiny little kid for telling her that I don’t feel safe and I don’t know how I’m going to get through the two weeks she’s gone. I also told her that I talk to her like twice a week now and how can I go two weeks with no support! Especially since she was just gone a week in July!!! And she said, “Well, maybe you shouldn’t talk to me then.” The fuck therapist!? Okay – therapist, maybe I shouldn’t! So much for being honest…
So now I will just tell her all is well…I got a whole treasure chest full up on “tools” – and a genie in a bottle too! Ready to grant my every wish! So we are g-o-o-d! Better than good…perfect! Perfect little Gracie! No worries. So now that we’ve established and taken inventory of my vast supply of “healthy choices” (and I’m not talking about those frozen meals that taste like cardboard…) I am g-o-o-d… t-o…g-o! What a relief! *Grace turns her frown upside-down*
I knew it wasn’t a good idea to actually be honest about my *feelings*. I’ll just shut up and behave until she leaves for yet another vacation (3rd one this year, btw, must be nice to be rich and carefree!)…then we shall throw a party!
Nope – this rage is all about ME! Excuse me for being so self-centered… ME~ME~ME! ALL OF ME
Ciao! I’m going to go pour myself a drink! I’m even MORE perfect (if that’s even possible) when I’m drinking! Martini anyone? Grace’s demon bartender makes the best martinis!
LINK to Grace's new Website: Give ME your anger... NO!
But there’s no reason to be angry with the therapist about something I did.
Then she tells me that I have all the “choices” to meet my needs within my reach. That made me feel like a whiny little kid for telling her that I don’t feel safe and I don’t know how I’m going to get through the two weeks she’s gone. I also told her that I talk to her like twice a week now and how can I go two weeks with no support! Especially since she was just gone a week in July!!! And she said, “Well, maybe you shouldn’t talk to me then.” The fuck therapist!? Okay – therapist, maybe I shouldn’t! So much for being honest…
So now I will just tell her all is well…I got a whole treasure chest full up on “tools” – and a genie in a bottle too! Ready to grant my every wish! So we are g-o-o-d! Better than good…perfect! Perfect little Gracie! No worries. So now that we’ve established and taken inventory of my vast supply of “healthy choices” (and I’m not talking about those frozen meals that taste like cardboard…) I am g-o-o-d… t-o…g-o! What a relief! *Grace turns her frown upside-down*
I knew it wasn’t a good idea to actually be honest about my *feelings*. I’ll just shut up and behave until she leaves for yet another vacation (3rd one this year, btw, must be nice to be rich and carefree!)…then we shall throw a party!
Nope – this rage is all about ME! Excuse me for being so self-centered… ME~ME~ME! ALL OF ME
Ciao! I’m going to go pour myself a drink! I’m even MORE perfect (if that’s even possible) when I’m drinking! Martini anyone? Grace’s demon bartender makes the best martinis!
LINK to Grace's new Website: Give ME your anger... NO!
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