Whoa. I’m not depressed. At least no more than is standard for me. I’ve done all kinds of things today. This morning I went out and read the paper at an outdoor cafe, while the local street musician sang old Bob Dylan tunes. This afternoon I went for a walk in the local park, and lay under some trees for a long time, reading. It is great not to be processing trauma on a weekend, to be able to do things.
Music is making sense to me. I’m listening to CDs I got from the library, and they’re nice. When I’m down, music is irritating – meaningless noise.
The ‘trauma’ of the group and session is fading quite a bit. I still feel it, a pain in my gut, but it’s no longer overwhelming.
I’ve decided I want to go to the last group session. I don’t feel any need to say goodbye, actually, but I don’t want to let PTSD win. I run because of fear. I don’t wish to keep running. My plan is to go, and simply concentrate on staying, that’s all. I am very scared at the start of every group, until I have talked for a while, but this time I don’t plan on talking. I’m going to sit through the fear, and I am going to feel proud of myself that I did it.
Once I decided this, I felt better about things. I am not a runner. Or if I am, I try again.
Because the group is extremely inhibited, I doubt very much anyone will engage me if I stay quiet. A and E were both very clear that they mainly needed for me to stop talking. That’s not why I’ll stay quiet though. I’ll stay quiet because I am trying to stay, and not talk out of anxiety. I know this may be hard to understand, but my reality is a PTSD space where fear rules. I do a lot of things out of fear, including talking in group. I know it’s the opposite for most people. But for me, this is how it is. So to stay, when I’m frightened, is good practice.
That’s one reason I sat at the outdoor cafe this morning, and why that gave me such a boost. I was anxious sitting there on the sidewalk. Then I gave the busker some money, and sat right by where he was singing. For some reason, I then felt very awkward sitting there. But I stayed for quite a long time. I thought he might be staring at me, and was afraid to look at him. Stupid. But the main thing was I stayed. And I enjoyed the music and the sun and the paper.
I remember now one thing that tipped the balance for me and made me run from group. It was the look of contempt on A’s face as he talked about how he wished I wouldn’t talk. I just wasn’t expecting contempt. This was someone I used to care about after all. E never pretended to like me, so I don’t feel as hurt by her.
The other thing was, the ‘attacks’ just came out of the blue. I didn’t engage negatively with anyone on my own steam – just built up bad feelings I guess. And I’d thought A and I had made headway the session before in accepting each other. I thought wrong, at least on his part.
Then, I don’t see why Ron seems to lose all his therapy abilities at once. He started lecturing me about how therapy works, in that creepy soft voice, and telling me what I should be doing. He wasn’t able to offer any support at all. It was too much for me, taken altogether, and I ran.
It’s distressing me again now I’m writing it out. However. This whole debacle hasn’t increased my PTSD. I am not depressed or dissociated. I see how I need to outlast my fear more, how it is imprisoning me.
Now I’m writing this, I’m no longer sure about going back. I would also still need to clear it with Ron. Ron assumed I wasn’t going back – he said I drummed myself out of the group. Not sure what that even means. He may not want me to go back, so I’ll see.
My worry is with outlasting the fear, if it is severe, I’ll end up out of my body and dissociated. That’s happened before where it’s taken me days to get back. I think since this is the last session, it’s a risk I’m willing to take.
My main accomplishment last session with Ron, was that I stayed put and didn’t leave. The urge to leave was there the whole session. I told him I was making a huge effort to stay. I found we were completely disconnected, but no matter how hurtful he was being, or how obtuse, I stayed and stayed. I feel proud I did that, and that is why I feel I want to go back to the last group.
Today I’m grateful for the busker and his music.