I do a good job of convincing myself that it’s not evident to others that I am struggling, that I’ve hidden it well from the world. I learned today that I was woefully wrong about that perception. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
My director asked to speak with me this morning. She conveyed that she was worried about me, as I didn’t seem like myself. I was stunned, not because I disagreed, but because I thought I had squirreled it away from others. I was so wrong about that.
The dissociative sleeping has been a huge problem, along with transitioning from my therapist to a psychiatrist. My ability to deal with stress has been compromised. I certainly feel it.
I was then trying to figure out a solution for myself when the psychiatrist called me out of the blue today at lunch. I’ve had to wait to start my treatment with him because he did not want to see me while I was seeing another clinician. He called me because he wondered how I was doing, and said he was willing to start Neurofeedback therapy with me while I transitioned from my previous therapist. He even admitted that he may have been too rigid with me.
It’s like the universe came together with this phone call at the opportune time. I even had an offer of moving my start time at work back an hour so that I have more time in the morning. Still feeling anxious and teary, but more hopeful than I have been feeling all week.