I’m just going to start writing and see what happens. Because I can’t think of any subject worth writing about. Perhaps I am stuck.
Work goes on. My contract got renewed. I learned I did not get the job I interviewed for. My co-worker, who is the person I have interacted with most for the last few months, is leaving. He got a better offer. And I remain.
Everything changes. Good reminder.
I did go to therapy on Thursday and can’t remember a lot about it. I know we discussed two dreams I’d remembered from the week before. I don’t have the calmness to spend much time on them, but I still enjoy telling Ron the dreams, and making a few comments, before moving on. There’s something deep and real about dreams. I believe they are speaking to me, but it’s in a language that is oblique and hard to understand.
I am still struggling with sleep, but it’s gotten a bit better. I went to my naturopath, and she suggested some supplements that help a bit – at least I’ve stopped taking xanax. I was getting worried about getting dependent on it, so that is a relief. I wake up in the middle of the night, sometimes twice a night. I am feeling things when I wake up – sometimes an intense sorrow, sometimes fear. I feel a lot of sorrow is being stirred up by my job situation, where I’m getting triggered a lot by the boss. I feel in continual danger of being let go, of making some awful error.
I am afraid to blog about therapy. Hmmm…..Therapy is less triggering than it was. I just don’t have the emotional space to get into trauma memories the way I was before this job. However, two parts still speak regularly with Ron – the kid and the teenage part.
I continue to struggle with massive fatigue. Why am I so tired? It’s like a post flu fatigue – it feels that physical. I suppose I am holding back feelings, but i don’t mean to. I am trying to feel. The feelings are behind a wall, and mostly I can’t make a break in that wall. I can do it more if Ron is there, but lately not so much, because I’m just too damned tired.
I need to vacuum and iron, and I can’t. I did however cook, with a pot roast in the over. So I’ll have food for the week.
I feel unhappy with myself for not doing much to heal. I’m not working on feeling things. Except I lie there, but I still can’t feel much. I feel feelings on the other side of the wall, and they leak out a bit, but that’s it. It’s enough to paralyze me though. But not enough to cry, to feel angry.
Oh yes, in therapy we did discuss my son for a while. He isn’t doing well. I saw him last weekend, took him out to dinner. I ended up telling him what to do. He is completely stuck it seems, and I started berating him about not seeing anyone – I offered to pay for therapy for him, for naturopath, for art classes. He doesn’t want any of it. He did say he will go to the doctor, once again. His complaint is allergies. Usually allergies are not completely disabling, but for him they are. The doctor however has found nothing wrong. Yet he keeps going.
I ask Ron if I should not have come down on my son like that, telling him what to do. I feel guilty. Ron nods, says it’s probably not that helpful. I could try asking my son what he might find helpful, if there’s anything he can think of that might help a bit.
I tell Ron I don’t want to discuss my son anymore. I’ve discussed him with therapists before, and they can’t help. I don’t want to waste my session. Ron replies that discussing my son is really discussing myself, in the sense that he is an important part of my life that is not working well. I think about this for a minute or two – I just feel myself sliding into depression about this, which isn’t going to help, so I change the subject.
I had gotten lost on the way to work that day. I was trying a new route, looking for a turnoff, when I took the wrong one. I was tired, and in my befuddled morning state, I ended up disoriented and heading right back into the city from which I’d headed out. I didn’t realize it until I was a few streets away from my own. Feeling like a complete idiot, I turned around, but didn’t pick a good route, so got stuck in construction. I was an hour and a half late for work. Which seemed to go unnoticed, as there is little to do there at the moment.
Ron asks if a part wanted to return home. I grin at this. It’s true, the kid part of me says most mornings that she ‘doesn’t want to go to that place’. However. I don’t know. I tell Ron I went to the dentist the day before, and when I do that, all these walls come down inside, it feels like, and I forget a lot and make a lot of mistakes. This felt like one of those kinds of problems.
I tell Ron about a painful team lunch. Also on Thursday, all the writers plus boss had lunch together. I was feeling awful – depressed, tired, out of it. And I basically froze at lunch. I felt I couldn’t talk. I squeaked out a few comments, but that was it. Crap. I sat there, socially completely inadequate. So I felt humiliated by that.
Then, just an hour or two later, I snapped out of it and was again able to function. It seems odd that I’m having these complete mood swings. Ron comments that it’s like different parts of myself clicking in. I say maybe – it’s not like parts with different voices, but maybe a kind of parts problem.
Ron says maybe next time, if the social problem happens again, I could try commenting that I feel really out of it, or tired, or something – just acknowledging that I’m not being very social, without making a big deal. I say yeah, I could do that. Just it’s hard to say anything, when I’m in those states, so it gets hard to figure out where to put that comment in. I feel so alienated and different.
Then the dreams. In the first one, I walk into the therapy room, and Ron is there with his young daughter, who has long blonde hair. I ask her how old she is, and she says six. There’s a baby monitor with some baby sounds. And I see my son has followed me into the room. I feel angry that Ron has brought his daughter into what should be my therapy time.
I say it seems to be about parts in therapy – when parts talk, it seems the time just passes, and I get no time to talk.
The second dream is about my family, My family is leaving to get donuts. I feel very sad at being left behind. My sister and brother come back and ask if I want to go with them, but I say no. I wake up feeling sad and alone.
I tell Ron about how special donuts were to my family when we first moved here from Europe. About how amazing we found all the different shapes and varieties, how important it was to pick a good kind.
The dream doesn’t make a lot of sense. If I want to go, whey don’t I say yes when my siblings come back for me?
I don’t give Ron much chance to comment on either dream. I want to tell them, but I don’t want to deeply consider them – dreams scare me. I know they can lead to a bunch of stuff I can’t deal with.
It occurs to me at home that ‘donuts’ does have the word ‘nuts’ embedded. Perhaps my family was heading off into crazy land, while I didn’t want to go? I wanted to in the sense that I wanted to belong and be part of it. But I wouldn’t accept the complete crazy. Maybe. A little home interpretation there.
The teenage part talks to Ron in the last few minutes of the session, when there’s almost no time. When I switch into her, I feel incredibly calm. All the pressure I’d been feeling evaporates. I suddenly clearly hear sounds from outside coming through the small window. It is ironic, because the teenager is actually very stormy and negative. Maybe letting her emerge instead of holding back is such a relief, it feels like calm. Ron says the more this part can talk to him, the better.
So I leave, thanking Ron. I feel grateful for the session.