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
Showing posts with label sex. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sex. Show all posts
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Are we ready to stop being 16 now Grace?
Sometimes I have to sit back for a minute to really appreciate all that the therapist does for me. Like she has totally put up with a lot of shit from me…like she never knows who will show up for session and so I imagine she braces herself right before she opens the door to “greet me and invite me in”…which as I’ve told her a million times – I won’t enter her office until she officially asks me to come in- even if she stands there all *smiley and welcomy* in the therapisty way… evil cannot cross a threshold without being invited in. She knows that! Hum…maybe that’s why her office always smells like garlic (well, when she doesn’t eat onions before my session!) because she’s trying to ward of Grace’s evil spirit…I’ll have to spend some time thinking about that…
And I know that the therapist gets me…like most of the time, she can deal with all of me – but then, there are those times when she will say something so completely off the wall, I’m all like, WHAT? Did you have a brain tumor for breakfast? Today, she made one of those suggestions that made me loudly interrupt her and want to scream, OMG! Do you know me at all??? She said she’d been thinking about my inability to sleep…compounded by the nightmares and terror when I do actually sleep – and she suggested that I go have a sleep study done. (WTF!) ..now she thinks my brain is oxygen deprived and I have sleep apnea? YES! I'll be that IS it! I'm sure it's really low O2 sats and not the fucking kid flashbacks!
Hello! I cannot FALL asleep! I cannot RELAX enough to fall asleep! So she quotes some ridiculous study about how people who with sleep apnea have more nightmares, etc. OMG! Seriously! How big was that brain tumor you ate Doc? The majority of the time I fall into panicky flashback hell is way before I fall over from exhaustion! HELLO!?!?! AND! Just to be clear – I can barely find a safe freaking place in my own home to feel relaxed enough to sleep – so what the fuck would make her think I would actually go to a sleep lab – surrounded by a bunch of freaky clinicians – with wires all over my exposed body and SLEEP??? Gee – is there free WIFI there at that sleep lab, DT? Cuz, maybe then I’d do it – since I’D BE UP ALL NIGHT! Jumping out of my freaking skin at the slightest movement! Like, I cannot even believe she suggested that! And would she make herself available after 10 when the freak outs start, or just let me completely lose it – OUTSIDE the “safety” of my own home until some freak at the clinic slaps my ass in the looney bin! I doubt it!(Maybe that was her “alterior” motive…get Grace locked away so she can run away and marry some Zen Monk and live *spiritually ever after*) Get a freakin’ clue!!!! NEWSFLASH: Afraid to sleep! F-E-A-R!!! BEFORE sleep! Unless the O2 is lacking when I’m awake – I’m nearly positive that is NOT the problem here ~ Doc!
And then like she KNOWS I haven’t been on top of my game, right? Ya know, with the late night panic attacks, the dissociative freak outs that last for hours, the cutting relapse. So after the “sleep lab” suggestion and the cutting analysis, she decides to say,“Oh, by the way, I’m going out of town for a week in February, do you want to spend some time talking about that?” WTF! What’s to *talk about*? What are we going to plan? You’re going out of town, and that’s just it….You gonna leave me your rock to carry around as a transitional object while you’re gone? Get a clue, DT! What does she want me to say or do? Beg her not to go? Like hello! She is entitled to vaca – deserves time off, just like everyone else - especially from crazybrain! I totally get that! But does she want me to “guarantee” her that I’ll stay safe while she’s gone? Well, I can say it – if that makes her feel better – but truth be told – I’m on the ledge every effing night – and I typically call her about 3x a week right now for help – so even if I say the words – words mean nothing! So whatever! I asked her what did she want me to say? Bon-voyage? Have a good time? And what if I don’t feel *safe*? What’s she going to do about it? Wrap up her rock in a blue blanket and tuck it in my purse? Threaten to slap me in the psych ward like she threatened 2 years ago? Yell at me to grow up like she did before? Doubt it! No matter what I say – it doesn’t matter. She is going to “trust” that I’ll keep myself safe.
And sometimes I wonder if what would happen if I didn’t spend so much time trying to “prove” to her that I was okay. I mean really! Like today, all of this crazy shit is streaming through my head like the Michael Jackson Thriller video – but I just sat there and chewed gum, playing with my headphones while she talks about sleep labs and her upcoming vacation. Whatever! She has done so much for me in the past I am NOT asking for any sort of retarded transitional object while she’s away. Maybe that's why she forgot the 2 emails. Maybe she did it on purpose as a "test" -- to the upcoming DT departure. Whatever! I say make the break now and then no one has to worry about it!
Like it doesn’t matter anyway – since I’m going to be gone the 2 weeks prior to that. And I told her that today, too. I’ll be gone Mon-Thursday 2 weeks in a row and then she leaves the Thursday I get back for a week. So that’s 3 weeks, sans therapy…since she doesn’t do Friday or weekend appointments. And I guess I didn’t look distressed because she sure didn’t offer up any suggestions! Fine! So next week is my last appointment until March. Whatever – I’m so not going next week either! Fuck it!
And then she got frustrated and said, “Are we done being 16 today?” Gee – I guess not, DT.” You know, for the record, I have a friend I’ll be seeing in a couple of weeks who PREFERS the 16 year old! She’s much more adventurous than most of us and she is always up for a party! And I’m sure her teenage defiant ass will be out in full force without the therapist’s “help” for 3 weeks – in fact, an email contact in preparation has already been sent.
Dear *Friend* ~ I will be in town on (these dates) and I would LOVE to *get together*.
Dear Scarlet ~ I am confident something will work out…C U THEN!
Ms. 16 year old is now going to go raid the liquor cabinet and the anti-anxiety meds...Let's Party! I totally love that she "Trusts" me ~ though - I really do. Hilarious! Sad...but still funny!
And I know that the therapist gets me…like most of the time, she can deal with all of me – but then, there are those times when she will say something so completely off the wall, I’m all like, WHAT? Did you have a brain tumor for breakfast? Today, she made one of those suggestions that made me loudly interrupt her and want to scream, OMG! Do you know me at all??? She said she’d been thinking about my inability to sleep…compounded by the nightmares and terror when I do actually sleep – and she suggested that I go have a sleep study done. (WTF!) ..now she thinks my brain is oxygen deprived and I have sleep apnea? YES! I'll be that IS it! I'm sure it's really low O2 sats and not the fucking kid flashbacks!
Hello! I cannot FALL asleep! I cannot RELAX enough to fall asleep! So she quotes some ridiculous study about how people who with sleep apnea have more nightmares, etc. OMG! Seriously! How big was that brain tumor you ate Doc? The majority of the time I fall into panicky flashback hell is way before I fall over from exhaustion! HELLO!?!?! AND! Just to be clear – I can barely find a safe freaking place in my own home to feel relaxed enough to sleep – so what the fuck would make her think I would actually go to a sleep lab – surrounded by a bunch of freaky clinicians – with wires all over my exposed body and SLEEP??? Gee – is there free WIFI there at that sleep lab, DT? Cuz, maybe then I’d do it – since I’D BE UP ALL NIGHT! Jumping out of my freaking skin at the slightest movement! Like, I cannot even believe she suggested that! And would she make herself available after 10 when the freak outs start, or just let me completely lose it – OUTSIDE the “safety” of my own home until some freak at the clinic slaps my ass in the looney bin! I doubt it!(Maybe that was her “alterior” motive…get Grace locked away so she can run away and marry some Zen Monk and live *spiritually ever after*) Get a freakin’ clue!!!! NEWSFLASH: Afraid to sleep! F-E-A-R!!! BEFORE sleep! Unless the O2 is lacking when I’m awake – I’m nearly positive that is NOT the problem here ~ Doc!
And then like she KNOWS I haven’t been on top of my game, right? Ya know, with the late night panic attacks, the dissociative freak outs that last for hours, the cutting relapse. So after the “sleep lab” suggestion and the cutting analysis, she decides to say,“Oh, by the way, I’m going out of town for a week in February, do you want to spend some time talking about that?” WTF! What’s to *talk about*? What are we going to plan? You’re going out of town, and that’s just it….You gonna leave me your rock to carry around as a transitional object while you’re gone? Get a clue, DT! What does she want me to say or do? Beg her not to go? Like hello! She is entitled to vaca – deserves time off, just like everyone else - especially from crazybrain! I totally get that! But does she want me to “guarantee” her that I’ll stay safe while she’s gone? Well, I can say it – if that makes her feel better – but truth be told – I’m on the ledge every effing night – and I typically call her about 3x a week right now for help – so even if I say the words – words mean nothing! So whatever! I asked her what did she want me to say? Bon-voyage? Have a good time? And what if I don’t feel *safe*? What’s she going to do about it? Wrap up her rock in a blue blanket and tuck it in my purse? Threaten to slap me in the psych ward like she threatened 2 years ago? Yell at me to grow up like she did before? Doubt it! No matter what I say – it doesn’t matter. She is going to “trust” that I’ll keep myself safe.
And sometimes I wonder if what would happen if I didn’t spend so much time trying to “prove” to her that I was okay. I mean really! Like today, all of this crazy shit is streaming through my head like the Michael Jackson Thriller video – but I just sat there and chewed gum, playing with my headphones while she talks about sleep labs and her upcoming vacation. Whatever! She has done so much for me in the past I am NOT asking for any sort of retarded transitional object while she’s away. Maybe that's why she forgot the 2 emails. Maybe she did it on purpose as a "test" -- to the upcoming DT departure. Whatever! I say make the break now and then no one has to worry about it!
Like it doesn’t matter anyway – since I’m going to be gone the 2 weeks prior to that. And I told her that today, too. I’ll be gone Mon-Thursday 2 weeks in a row and then she leaves the Thursday I get back for a week. So that’s 3 weeks, sans therapy…since she doesn’t do Friday or weekend appointments. And I guess I didn’t look distressed because she sure didn’t offer up any suggestions! Fine! So next week is my last appointment until March. Whatever – I’m so not going next week either! Fuck it!
And then she got frustrated and said, “Are we done being 16 today?” Gee – I guess not, DT.” You know, for the record, I have a friend I’ll be seeing in a couple of weeks who PREFERS the 16 year old! She’s much more adventurous than most of us and she is always up for a party! And I’m sure her teenage defiant ass will be out in full force without the therapist’s “help” for 3 weeks – in fact, an email contact in preparation has already been sent.
Dear *Friend* ~ I will be in town on (these dates) and I would LOVE to *get together*.
Dear Scarlet ~ I am confident something will work out…C U THEN!
Ms. 16 year old is now going to go raid the liquor cabinet and the anti-anxiety meds...Let's Party! I totally love that she "Trusts" me ~ though - I really do. Hilarious! Sad...but still funny!
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Dear Little Gracie...
Dear (5 year old) Little Gracie,
Please just stop it. I do not know how to help you right now. I am as lost as you are and I really need you to stop crying because if you do not I am going to cut you right out of me. And I know that neither of us want that. I know it hurts and I know it sucks right now. I know you’re scared because there is no one to help you and you have to lean on me and we all know that I do not have a clue. Hell – I don’t even like kids (no offense).
Yeah, I screwed you up. I know that. I would tell you I’m sorry for last night but sorry doesn’t really mean much…people say it all the time and to say I’m sorry would imply that it won’t happen again, and we both know that it will. I know that I am the grown up and I should be better at dealing with this. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Gracie, I don’t know why I cannot get a grip. But how can I possibly take care of you when I cannot even take care of myself?
It just feels like nothing consoles you, you know? And I don’t know what to do except scream at you to go away. I want to cut you out of me, Gracie, I do. I know you feel that too. I know it isn’t nice but gawd I’m as fucked up as you are! And I blame you for that. I do. I get that it isn’t fair to blame you for everything- but I do it anyway. I blame you because you make me remember and I don’t want to remember, Gracie, I don’t want to see it again. It was way bad the first time around- now the pain is unbearable. I don’t know why you survived. And a lot of the time I wish you wouldn’t have lived. I know that’s a horrible thing to say but it’s how I feel.
I’m sorry the therapist forgot you last night…but you know better than to count on anyone else to do what they say they will do. You’re not worth it! I know you think the therapist cares about you –and I’m sure she does: “In the limited ways that she can…” –and I don’t get how it happened either but she forgot- so get over it and stop crying about it because if you don’t – I will cut you. I will. You know I’ve done it before – a thousand times- and I’ll do it again if you don’t stop crying. I will! And stop depending on the therapist to do what she says she’ll do – would you? It’s not like she’s going to be around forever – it’s not like she can take your pain away either! No one can! We’re on our own girl! Just as it’s always been – so suck it up! You have to stop with the crying! And you have to stop crying now because if you don’t – I’ll have to shut you up – and that will only hurt you more, Gracie, you know that. I’m all you got girl – and we both know I don’t even like you. But I’m all you’ve got.
Yeah, he hurt you. And then I let everyone else hurt you too. The therapist forgot you last night. I let him fuck you again last night. The list of your grievances is endless, isn't it? But I will not tell you I’m sorry and I will no longer listen to your crying today. So stop it right now – or I will give you something to cry about! And neither of us want that. Right? I swear I will! And I will pour vodka down your throat and I'll let him do it again tonight. You have to stop it right now, Gracie. Stop it right now!
Be quiet kid – life’s a bitch! You should know that by now….be a good girl and shut up and behave yourself.
In Frustration, Grace
Please just stop it. I do not know how to help you right now. I am as lost as you are and I really need you to stop crying because if you do not I am going to cut you right out of me. And I know that neither of us want that. I know it hurts and I know it sucks right now. I know you’re scared because there is no one to help you and you have to lean on me and we all know that I do not have a clue. Hell – I don’t even like kids (no offense).
Yeah, I screwed you up. I know that. I would tell you I’m sorry for last night but sorry doesn’t really mean much…people say it all the time and to say I’m sorry would imply that it won’t happen again, and we both know that it will. I know that I am the grown up and I should be better at dealing with this. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Gracie, I don’t know why I cannot get a grip. But how can I possibly take care of you when I cannot even take care of myself?
It just feels like nothing consoles you, you know? And I don’t know what to do except scream at you to go away. I want to cut you out of me, Gracie, I do. I know you feel that too. I know it isn’t nice but gawd I’m as fucked up as you are! And I blame you for that. I do. I get that it isn’t fair to blame you for everything- but I do it anyway. I blame you because you make me remember and I don’t want to remember, Gracie, I don’t want to see it again. It was way bad the first time around- now the pain is unbearable. I don’t know why you survived. And a lot of the time I wish you wouldn’t have lived. I know that’s a horrible thing to say but it’s how I feel.
I’m sorry the therapist forgot you last night…but you know better than to count on anyone else to do what they say they will do. You’re not worth it! I know you think the therapist cares about you –and I’m sure she does: “In the limited ways that she can…” –and I don’t get how it happened either but she forgot- so get over it and stop crying about it because if you don’t – I will cut you. I will. You know I’ve done it before – a thousand times- and I’ll do it again if you don’t stop crying. I will! And stop depending on the therapist to do what she says she’ll do – would you? It’s not like she’s going to be around forever – it’s not like she can take your pain away either! No one can! We’re on our own girl! Just as it’s always been – so suck it up! You have to stop with the crying! And you have to stop crying now because if you don’t – I’ll have to shut you up – and that will only hurt you more, Gracie, you know that. I’m all you got girl – and we both know I don’t even like you. But I’m all you’ve got.
Yeah, he hurt you. And then I let everyone else hurt you too. The therapist forgot you last night. I let him fuck you again last night. The list of your grievances is endless, isn't it? But I will not tell you I’m sorry and I will no longer listen to your crying today. So stop it right now – or I will give you something to cry about! And neither of us want that. Right? I swear I will! And I will pour vodka down your throat and I'll let him do it again tonight. You have to stop it right now, Gracie. Stop it right now!
Be quiet kid – life’s a bitch! You should know that by now….be a good girl and shut up and behave yourself.
In Frustration, Grace
Last night felt like a Friday. But it's been a bad week, so maybe it wasn't really...
Last night wasn’t Friday was it? I know Fridays are really bad for me, but this past week, every night has been bad. But last night couldn’t have been Friday because I did not get an email from the therapist –and the therapist ALWAYS emails on Fridays (well, when she doesn’t forget –which has now happened 2x this month). But maybe last night wasn’t really Friday because I only remember about 10 minutes of the night anyway. And those 10 minutes are sort of sporadic and not really a “whole” picture of the happenings of last night. Which is probably a good thing – since the 10 minutes I do remember are not pleasant, and when I woke up at 3:34am in the basement, sans clothing and freezing cold, I tried to put more together but it just isn’t there. It felt like Friday but as I said, it’s been a bad week, so maybe it wasn’t really.
I haven't eaten or slept in days. I called in sick to work Thurs and Fri because I could not bear to leave the house....and it looks as though today will be more of the same. I am so tired of all of this. I can barely move right now. But I'm not "calling" out for help…It doesn't matter anymore.
I haven't eaten or slept in days. I called in sick to work Thurs and Fri because I could not bear to leave the house....and it looks as though today will be more of the same. I am so tired of all of this. I can barely move right now. But I'm not "calling" out for help…It doesn't matter anymore.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
I can see the shadow of the freak-out monster in my peripheral vision
Tuesday in session I talked a little more about the Friday night creepshows of the past and present. And even as I spoke, it wasn’t me saying the words. I heard the words come out of my mouth. I could hear the words, I could see the therapist sitting across from me, but it didn’t even feel like ME ~ it wasn’t like I was consciously speaking the words, but yet they were pouring out of me in a steady tone of voice. A voice I was not able to stop. Was that my voice? I did not speak those words.
After the words were spoken, I told the therapist that I hoped to not freak out later. But I can see the freak-out shadow in my peripheral vision; it frightens me and now I can move only my eyes but not the rest of my head, or my body. I want to be disconnected from my body tonight and yet try as I might; I still feel the churning in my stomach, the pounding ache on the left side of my head. I feel the burning in my eyes and the tightness in my chest. It is difficult to keep my eyes open and impossible to take a deep breath.
She has cried non-stop since last night. Even in bed, huddled in the corner, far away from the door and wrapped tightly in her blue blanket and surrounded by pillows, she shook and cried. And still tonight she cries in fear and pain. She cries about sticky humiliating smelly messes. She cries about mirrors and blood. She cries and she cannot be soothed.
Why does she remember? Why does she remind me all of the time? Why does she ruin everything? Why can’t she just go away? Why does it still hurt so bad? It shouldn’t hurt now. It does but it shouldn’t. And she continues to cry...
I hear her crying, I see her crying ~ but I don't know how to stop her cries. I don't know how to make her pain go away. All I can do is watch her and hear her.
After the words were spoken, I told the therapist that I hoped to not freak out later. But I can see the freak-out shadow in my peripheral vision; it frightens me and now I can move only my eyes but not the rest of my head, or my body. I want to be disconnected from my body tonight and yet try as I might; I still feel the churning in my stomach, the pounding ache on the left side of my head. I feel the burning in my eyes and the tightness in my chest. It is difficult to keep my eyes open and impossible to take a deep breath.
She has cried non-stop since last night. Even in bed, huddled in the corner, far away from the door and wrapped tightly in her blue blanket and surrounded by pillows, she shook and cried. And still tonight she cries in fear and pain. She cries about sticky humiliating smelly messes. She cries about mirrors and blood. She cries and she cannot be soothed.
Why does she remember? Why does she remind me all of the time? Why does she ruin everything? Why can’t she just go away? Why does it still hurt so bad? It shouldn’t hurt now. It does but it shouldn’t. And she continues to cry...
I hear her crying, I see her crying ~ but I don't know how to stop her cries. I don't know how to make her pain go away. All I can do is watch her and hear her.
Friday, January 8, 2010
“What do you think the cleaning lady was trying to tell you by leaving all the laundry in the middle of the floor, G?”
Well, let me think a minute, hus…Um…maybe that I’m lazy and way behind in household chores? I don’t know! That I’m a fat lazy depressed pig and haven’t done the laundry in a couple of weeks so it wouldn’t all fit in the laundry room? Somethin’ like that, oh great and powerful man of mine? But don’t worry, I’ll start on it as soon as everyone goes to bed tonight. If I can remember what year it is, who I am, and find the laundry, that is...which I doubt!
The cleaning lady came today and she did something different. A couple of things actually. Instead of just collecting the laundry and putting it in the laundry room she piled all the baskets of dirty clothes/sheets/towels in the family room. Maybe since I haven’t done laundry in awhile and there was way more than usual…I don’t know why! She also “staged” some of my son’s stuffed animals in his room (very cute ~ did she used to work for a cruiseline?) And I think she’s using some new cleaning products because my stomach is kinda jacked up from the chemical smell (course it could be me, ms. Ultra-sensitive nose woman).
The hus is in rare form tonight, which is super great, since I slept about 20 minutes last night…plagued by freakin’ nightmares again! And when he gets in these “moods” he thinks everything that comes to his mind is funny and should be shared with me. He also thinks he has a great singing voice, but that’s not really the point I’m trying to make. So after he humorously made the comment about the laundry pile up in the family room, he went on to another topic…and then another…and then another…until he was cracking himself up.
F'N A! I wish every day was Friday!
Pass the pancakes and onions!...
Thursday, December 31, 2009
I needed a translater last night...
I know that I have *conditioned* the hus to respond to me the way he does. I have never been the type of person who wanted to be "held" or "comforted"...I don't like to *cuddle* by the fireplace or curl up on a couch together and watch a movie. I don’t like walk together holding hands and admiring a sunset…It’s just never felt right for me. The hus used to be like that…a long, long time ago…*affectionate*. I didn’t like it. Eventually he realized I wouldn’t respond to him by returning the affection so he stopped trying.
I remember years ago a friend of mine wanted to get married and her BF did not. They were in counseling together and the therapist told them not to see each other, or speak to each other, for 1 month. And after that month they would return to the therapist and each other and decide their future. I’m generalizing this story and making it much simpler then the reality of what that month was like for them, but they followed the therapist’s advice and didn’t see or speak to each other for 1 month.
The month ended on a weekend they were to go out of town for a mutual friend’s wedding and when she was telling me about the weekend, and seeing her BF again, she said, “It was so wonderful.” *insert dreamy/romantic voice tone here* “It was such a romantic coming back together for the BF and me.” And I smiled with her, and shared her joy of seeing her BF again as she told me how much she missed him and that she loved him, and even if they did not get married, she still wanted to be with him. It was like Herald and Maude! In my cynical head, I was wondering if there were doves cooing on the roof of their little romantic cottage. Less than a year later they broke up. That’s not the point of this story, but cynical, unromantic Grace had to throw that part in… The point of sharing the story of my friend’s relationship hiatus and following reunion is this: As she was telling me about her romantic weekend with BF at this quaint little cottage where their friends tied the knot; it sounded like a fairy tale! And I was trying to imagine what she was saying, and incorporate her words of romanticism inside my trauma brain in a way I could maybe feel some of what she was telling me. And I couldn’t. I didn’t feel anything at all.
My crazybrain is wired wrong…I don’t believe in love, and fairy tales, and romanticism. I never have. Sometimes I wonder if you can really miss something you have never known… After last night’s conversation with my friend of what it must be like to be held safely, I thought I would try it. It was the middle of the night here when I went upstairs to bed. And I laid down next to the hus and asked him to hold me. It didn’t really work out well. I don’t think he believed me that I just wanted him to hold me. But that was really all I wanted. Someone to hold me but not f**k me. Somehow my forgoing the fortress building and saying, "Will you hold me" must have have somehow sounded like, "Will you f**k me." to him.
I remember years ago a friend of mine wanted to get married and her BF did not. They were in counseling together and the therapist told them not to see each other, or speak to each other, for 1 month. And after that month they would return to the therapist and each other and decide their future. I’m generalizing this story and making it much simpler then the reality of what that month was like for them, but they followed the therapist’s advice and didn’t see or speak to each other for 1 month.
The month ended on a weekend they were to go out of town for a mutual friend’s wedding and when she was telling me about the weekend, and seeing her BF again, she said, “It was so wonderful.” *insert dreamy/romantic voice tone here* “It was such a romantic coming back together for the BF and me.” And I smiled with her, and shared her joy of seeing her BF again as she told me how much she missed him and that she loved him, and even if they did not get married, she still wanted to be with him. It was like Herald and Maude! In my cynical head, I was wondering if there were doves cooing on the roof of their little romantic cottage. Less than a year later they broke up. That’s not the point of this story, but cynical, unromantic Grace had to throw that part in… The point of sharing the story of my friend’s relationship hiatus and following reunion is this: As she was telling me about her romantic weekend with BF at this quaint little cottage where their friends tied the knot; it sounded like a fairy tale! And I was trying to imagine what she was saying, and incorporate her words of romanticism inside my trauma brain in a way I could maybe feel some of what she was telling me. And I couldn’t. I didn’t feel anything at all.
My crazybrain is wired wrong…I don’t believe in love, and fairy tales, and romanticism. I never have. Sometimes I wonder if you can really miss something you have never known… After last night’s conversation with my friend of what it must be like to be held safely, I thought I would try it. It was the middle of the night here when I went upstairs to bed. And I laid down next to the hus and asked him to hold me. It didn’t really work out well. I don’t think he believed me that I just wanted him to hold me. But that was really all I wanted. Someone to hold me but not f**k me. Somehow my forgoing the fortress building and saying, "Will you hold me" must have have somehow sounded like, "Will you f**k me." to him.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Gracefully Insane
"Even in your pain, you WILL be okay and you are NOT crazy...in spite what you may think sometimes."
That's what the therapist said to me last May, and again last night. When she tells me I am not insane, it always makes me raise an eyebrow in her direction because clearly, dear therapist, we both know that I am insane. And if ANYONE is aware of that fact, it is her. For the love of God! In the past four years, I've interrupted her life a thousand times, left her insane borderline voicemails threatening to kill myself, sent hateful borderline emails, OD'd and cut myself in the parking lot of her office, cried, yelled, screamed, cussed her out, told her to fuck off, and begged her to help me~ and she can seriously look me in the eye and tell me I'm not crazy?
Um, I don't think so...that aside, though, I am starting to see some of the root of where the craziness has grown from ~ not that that vision has lead me gracefully into the land of the sane. I only wish that were true. Sane people do not find bottles of vicodin and wonder how many she would have to take before respiration ceases. Sane people do not lose all sense of reality and dissociate and do things they don't remember doing ~ and I don't mean not remembering a stop light on the way to work! Sane people do not have to count out anxiety and sleeping medication and hide the rest so a suididal part of her doesn't *accidentally* take them all. I ain't sane!
If I really dig deep, I think that I have always been insane, in a twisted sort of way.Starting in the 6th grade I would let boys do things to me; not because I wanted to do them, but because I thought it would hurt the evil SF if someone else touched me. I don’t know why I thought that ~ I suppose it’s the runaway thought train that rushes through my maladaptive brain even now~ when I abruptly cancel a therapy appointment out of anger, or deliberately shut the therapist out in session. Does it punish the therapist? No, Grace, it’s just you again, punishing you. See, sane people don't think that way~ not even in the 6th grade. This is a reason why you should not fuck kids ~ they go insane and then try to drive their therapists insane. It's a terrible thing, really....
Um, I don't think so...that aside, though, I am starting to see some of the root of where the craziness has grown from ~ not that that vision has lead me gracefully into the land of the sane. I only wish that were true. Sane people do not find bottles of vicodin and wonder how many she would have to take before respiration ceases. Sane people do not lose all sense of reality and dissociate and do things they don't remember doing ~ and I don't mean not remembering a stop light on the way to work! Sane people do not have to count out anxiety and sleeping medication and hide the rest so a suididal part of her doesn't *accidentally* take them all. I ain't sane!
If I really dig deep, I think that I have always been insane, in a twisted sort of way.Starting in the 6th grade I would let boys do things to me; not because I wanted to do them, but because I thought it would hurt the evil SF if someone else touched me. I don’t know why I thought that ~ I suppose it’s the runaway thought train that rushes through my maladaptive brain even now~ when I abruptly cancel a therapy appointment out of anger, or deliberately shut the therapist out in session. Does it punish the therapist? No, Grace, it’s just you again, punishing you. See, sane people don't think that way~ not even in the 6th grade. This is a reason why you should not fuck kids ~ they go insane and then try to drive their therapists insane. It's a terrible thing, really....
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
I am still in pieces...
It still hurts I am still broken and it never goes away. I don't understand why no one ever says, "It's going to be okay. You're going to be okay and you are not broken." Nobody ever did that. Nobody ever held me and told me I would be okay, that I would be safe, that he wouldn't hurt me anymore.
I am still broken into a million pieces. And I cannot put myself back together again.
I am still broken into a million pieces. And I cannot put myself back together again.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
The *Room* we don't speak of....
You like, I could draw you a picture...but we don't speak of it....It's too scary.
Grace is bad.
Grace is bad.
I had *crazyhead* on Friday
Last Friday I got confused between then and now. I thought I was past that but obviously I'm not.
Because it happened again. I was 9 when my mother took my little brother and went away for 2 weeks with my biological father and left me with the evil step-father. And last Friday I got *crazyhead* early in the evening and when I was talking to the therapist I cried and told her she couldn't help me. And I got confused. The therapist was suddenly the host body and she left me with the evil kid-f'ing SF. And I told the therapist I did not need her and she could not help me and I hung up on her. And I don't remember much else after that.
I don't know how to get the crazy out of my head. I need to find a cure soon ~ because although I didn't find any cuts/scabs/burns later...this last case of the crazies was worse than most.
I can't get out of bed now...all I want to do is stay asleep...I just want to sleep...
Because it happened again. I was 9 when my mother took my little brother and went away for 2 weeks with my biological father and left me with the evil step-father. And last Friday I got *crazyhead* early in the evening and when I was talking to the therapist I cried and told her she couldn't help me. And I got confused. The therapist was suddenly the host body and she left me with the evil kid-f'ing SF. And I told the therapist I did not need her and she could not help me and I hung up on her. And I don't remember much else after that.
I don't know how to get the crazy out of my head. I need to find a cure soon ~ because although I didn't find any cuts/scabs/burns later...this last case of the crazies was worse than most.
I can't get out of bed now...all I want to do is stay asleep...I just want to sleep...
Friday, December 18, 2009
Everyone has secrets, right?
Everyone has something they are ashamed of, right? Everyone has something in their in their past that they do not want anyone to know about, don't they? There is no one in the exempt category for this, is there? Even my ultra-religious, never told a lie, grandparents had a secret. They were married for 55 years and when he died, I learned that he had been married before WWII ~ I never knew that ~ neither of them ever mentioned it.
Sometimes secrets are on a 'need to know basis' ~ some secrets are on a 'never to be known' list.
Some things make me feel untouchable ~ some things I do because I don't think I have the right to say no, sometimes I lack the ability ~ sometimes I just give up. Sometimes it just doesn't matter.
Sometimes secrets are on a 'need to know basis' ~ some secrets are on a 'never to be known' list.
Some things make me feel untouchable ~ some things I do because I don't think I have the right to say no, sometimes I lack the ability ~ sometimes I just give up. Sometimes it just doesn't matter.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
To all the ones I've *wronged* before ~ and an extra special gift to the man to "accidentally" grabbed my ass tonight...
I had to apologize and make amends to a friend of mine this afternoon for something I said last week, as well as some unbecoming behavior exhibited in the course of the conversation. I don't remember the conversation, but I've no doubt it happened....
Late this afternoon a friend of mine walked into my office and in such a kind way she told me how nice I looked and how much she liked my sweater (I, too, think it's a great sweater ~ I wore it once on a day I had T ~ and the therapist told me it looked like a Rorschach test...Really, dear therapist, and just what did you see in the sweater pattern? ~ I guess that was a compliment coming from a shrink?) Anyway, my friend went on to tell me that the last time I wore the sweater....let me use her words, "It wasn't you!" She told me I was mean to her (well, I never!)...and I don't remember the conversation at all. She went on to tell me that I had stormed out of her office in the middle of the conversation, telling her she was acting like a shrink (Ok - I said my shrink) and when she called me a bit later I refused to talk to her. What? I'm sure she's telling the truth (must be the brain tumor) so I apologized to her and she said, "Well, it's nice to have Grace back...."
I hate it when I do things I don't remember...yesterday in T I told the therapist I thought I was doing better and I haven't had any borderline freak outs and sent her any crazy, hateful emails in a long time. And she said I did send one not too long ago...(?) WTF~ wasn't in my sent file! So I freakin' apologized to her too yesterday!
It's not been a great couple of days...in fact, I've had some of those freaky body issues, more than a few crying spells, done a couple of really stupid things (I tend to *act out* when I get really angry or feel unheard about something ~ even if I don't say out loud what that *something* is...something to do with a local police officer who came to pick up the toys we collected for the local kids and I have *priors* with him), have a horrible migraine, and a terrible case of insomnia...my mind has been racing ~ and I haven't been able to focus for a week now!
And I hate that the therapist isn't working tomororw night (although I'm sure she isn't hating having the weekend off...) because I know I'm going to need help tomorrow night ~ especially now that both DS and DD are spending the night with friends and won't be home ~ GREAT! WTF! I don't really like DH right now! But really, I don't like myself because I can't talk to him about ANYTHING! And there ain't no way I'm asking for help tomorrow night ~ not even if there's bloodshed!
Now ~ the kicker to my week, thus far! Tonight, I was shopping with a friend and this disgusting man 'accidentally' hit my shoulder and then grabbed my ass! WTF! Of course, I didn't say anything ~not even when he invaded my personal space at the cash register later, loudly proclaiming how he was shopping for his 'god-daughter' and 'aunt' ~ I care because???? Again, WTF? What the hell gave him to right to grab my ass and fuck up my night!? Of course, marsha dear, would tell me no one but me can eff up my night and I should let it go....cuz I sure can't change it...but it has jacked up my already messed up week!
I am SSSOOOOO a grown-up and I am NOT reaching out for help! Not tonight or tomorrow or the next night! I can and will do this on my own! And I don't care of that does mean some 'maladaptive' behavior and bloodshed! I don't care!!!!!
And what I'd really like is a martini right now! Where the hell is that demon bartender???? Make it a double ~ STAT!!!!!
F**K!!! SH*T!!!!!! DAMN!!!!!!
Late this afternoon a friend of mine walked into my office and in such a kind way she told me how nice I looked and how much she liked my sweater (I, too, think it's a great sweater ~ I wore it once on a day I had T ~ and the therapist told me it looked like a Rorschach test...Really, dear therapist, and just what did you see in the sweater pattern? ~ I guess that was a compliment coming from a shrink?) Anyway, my friend went on to tell me that the last time I wore the sweater....let me use her words, "It wasn't you!" She told me I was mean to her (well, I never!)...and I don't remember the conversation at all. She went on to tell me that I had stormed out of her office in the middle of the conversation, telling her she was acting like a shrink (Ok - I said my shrink) and when she called me a bit later I refused to talk to her. What? I'm sure she's telling the truth (must be the brain tumor) so I apologized to her and she said, "Well, it's nice to have Grace back...."
I hate it when I do things I don't remember...yesterday in T I told the therapist I thought I was doing better and I haven't had any borderline freak outs and sent her any crazy, hateful emails in a long time. And she said I did send one not too long ago...(?) WTF~ wasn't in my sent file! So I freakin' apologized to her too yesterday!
It's not been a great couple of days...in fact, I've had some of those freaky body issues, more than a few crying spells, done a couple of really stupid things (I tend to *act out* when I get really angry or feel unheard about something ~ even if I don't say out loud what that *something* is...something to do with a local police officer who came to pick up the toys we collected for the local kids and I have *priors* with him), have a horrible migraine, and a terrible case of insomnia...my mind has been racing ~ and I haven't been able to focus for a week now!
And I hate that the therapist isn't working tomororw night (although I'm sure she isn't hating having the weekend off...) because I know I'm going to need help tomorrow night ~ especially now that both DS and DD are spending the night with friends and won't be home ~ GREAT! WTF! I don't really like DH right now! But really, I don't like myself because I can't talk to him about ANYTHING! And there ain't no way I'm asking for help tomorrow night ~ not even if there's bloodshed!
Now ~ the kicker to my week, thus far! Tonight, I was shopping with a friend and this disgusting man 'accidentally' hit my shoulder and then grabbed my ass! WTF! Of course, I didn't say anything ~not even when he invaded my personal space at the cash register later, loudly proclaiming how he was shopping for his 'god-daughter' and 'aunt' ~ I care because???? Again, WTF? What the hell gave him to right to grab my ass and fuck up my night!? Of course, marsha dear, would tell me no one but me can eff up my night and I should let it go....cuz I sure can't change it...but it has jacked up my already messed up week!
I am SSSOOOOO a grown-up and I am NOT reaching out for help! Not tonight or tomorrow or the next night! I can and will do this on my own! And I don't care of that does mean some 'maladaptive' behavior and bloodshed! I don't care!!!!!
And what I'd really like is a martini right now! Where the hell is that demon bartender???? Make it a double ~ STAT!!!!!
F**K!!! SH*T!!!!!! DAMN!!!!!!
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
If no one trusts, does it matter if everyone lies?
It's hard to talk to the therapist about embarrassing and shameful things ~ 'bad' things. I can talk to my survivor friend, I can write about it here. It feels different for me, to talk to someone who has shared similar experiences…like speaks to like I guess. I’m not saying I have any idea of the therapist’s past ~ but I don’t get the feeling she was f'd by her father, or hated by her mother…and it embarrasses me to talk about where I came from. What I was ~ what he did, and what I continue to do to myself…it sickens me, and it’s f’d up. So I don’t understand how someone cannot judge something so terrible (not what happened to me as a kid –I know she isn’t going to judge that ~ but the stuff I continue to do now that is messed up). I email a friend and I tell her something that is fucked up and she will say, “Yeah, Grace ~ that’s f’d up.” And I know she’s being honest. That was a topic of conversation today during T.
Yesterday I told the therapist some of what happens on Friday nights and then part of me regretted telling her ~ and so I freaked last night and left her a frantic voicemail that she had to promise me she wouldn’t mention anything about Fridays because otherwise I couldn’t come to my appointment…because I was too embarrassed and ashamed and I can’t believe I said anything in the first place. She called me back and told me that she would not mention it and she would wait until all of us were ready to talk about it.
We did talk a little about Friday nights during my appointment today, and I told her it’s f’d up and I’m a freak…and I know she says she’s all nonjudgmental but I don’t believe that ~ how could anyone NOT be…and I wish she would really tell me what she was thinking, even if it is to say, “Gawd Grace, that’s f’d up!” (and not just because it’s always a goal of mine to get the therapist to say the “F” word…) but because Fridays are, in fact, f’d up! And she said she wasn’t thinking that at all…but I don’t believe that. Isn’t that what all therapists say? Like it’s written on page 246 of the ‘manual’ ~ never tell a client she is f’d up.
And so the therapist told me that I should just tell the hus why Friday nights are hard for me and then maybe we could agree to have sex on another night that isn’t so triggering for me. I nearly laughed at that suggestion, since I did not obviously give enough details to allow her to fully understand that it's not about having sex on Fridays…nope, not enough details. It was kinda cute ~ though, her suggestion., and the way she said it. It was almost like making an alternative suggestion to a 5 year old, “Well, Gracie, we don’t have any chocolate ice cream maybe you can have vanilla with chocolate syrup instead?” For the love of God, if she only knew! She would say, “Grace, that’s f’d up…”
Anyway, I’m already dreading this Friday~ and it’s only Wednesday! And I’m not strong enough to tell anyone why, or stop any of it. Sometimes I don’t understand how I got to be an adult….*huge exasperated sigh*!!! The therapist offered a check in call on Friday, but the past 2 Fridays she was working and that means I can talk to her around 11:30 at night. This Friday she is off so she said we could plan a time earlier in the evening…I graciously declined her offer for 2 reasons: (1) she has the weekend off and I’m sure she has plans, and (2) earlier than 11 won’t work for me. Sammy Terry starts at 10… And I can’t stop it - and the last 2 Fridays I talked to her at 11:30 and I was able to at least not hurt myself, or worse. But it was nice of her to offer. I told her I would be okay…even if I hang on by my pinky fingernail, I’ll be okay. And even though I won’t really be “okay” I'm not telling her that…I’ll live.
But Fridays are not “just another night”. Not for me. I cried all the way back to work when I left her office…I don’t even know why….that's f'd up...
Yesterday I told the therapist some of what happens on Friday nights and then part of me regretted telling her ~ and so I freaked last night and left her a frantic voicemail that she had to promise me she wouldn’t mention anything about Fridays because otherwise I couldn’t come to my appointment…because I was too embarrassed and ashamed and I can’t believe I said anything in the first place. She called me back and told me that she would not mention it and she would wait until all of us were ready to talk about it.
We did talk a little about Friday nights during my appointment today, and I told her it’s f’d up and I’m a freak…and I know she says she’s all nonjudgmental but I don’t believe that ~ how could anyone NOT be…and I wish she would really tell me what she was thinking, even if it is to say, “Gawd Grace, that’s f’d up!” (and not just because it’s always a goal of mine to get the therapist to say the “F” word…) but because Fridays are, in fact, f’d up! And she said she wasn’t thinking that at all…but I don’t believe that. Isn’t that what all therapists say? Like it’s written on page 246 of the ‘manual’ ~ never tell a client she is f’d up.
And so the therapist told me that I should just tell the hus why Friday nights are hard for me and then maybe we could agree to have sex on another night that isn’t so triggering for me. I nearly laughed at that suggestion, since I did not obviously give enough details to allow her to fully understand that it's not about having sex on Fridays…nope, not enough details. It was kinda cute ~ though, her suggestion., and the way she said it. It was almost like making an alternative suggestion to a 5 year old, “Well, Gracie, we don’t have any chocolate ice cream maybe you can have vanilla with chocolate syrup instead?” For the love of God, if she only knew! She would say, “Grace, that’s f’d up…”
Anyway, I’m already dreading this Friday~ and it’s only Wednesday! And I’m not strong enough to tell anyone why, or stop any of it. Sometimes I don’t understand how I got to be an adult….*huge exasperated sigh*!!! The therapist offered a check in call on Friday, but the past 2 Fridays she was working and that means I can talk to her around 11:30 at night. This Friday she is off so she said we could plan a time earlier in the evening…I graciously declined her offer for 2 reasons: (1) she has the weekend off and I’m sure she has plans, and (2) earlier than 11 won’t work for me. Sammy Terry starts at 10… And I can’t stop it - and the last 2 Fridays I talked to her at 11:30 and I was able to at least not hurt myself, or worse. But it was nice of her to offer. I told her I would be okay…even if I hang on by my pinky fingernail, I’ll be okay. And even though I won’t really be “okay” I'm not telling her that…I’ll live.
But Fridays are not “just another night”. Not for me. I cried all the way back to work when I left her office…I don’t even know why….that's f'd up...
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