Category Archives: anxiety

Just a mess, for no big reason

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I’ve hit one of the most difficult writing blocks I’ve ever encountered. I’m sure that it is directly related to the fact that I am struggling internally. Externally, I’m able to somewhat keep it together. That’s an improvement from the past. I’m able to perform at work, and I’m more able to cook for myself more so than in the past. But, truthfully, I alternate between feelings of despair, anxiety, and fear. The reasons are varied, but I think the overall theme for me is that I am tired of trying. And I haven’t blogged because I don’t like writing from such a negative place. I always try to come from things with a perspective of hope, even when I’m having a difficult time with something. But, lately, there’s been little hope and positivity within me.

At work there’s been discussion regarding suicidal ideation in employees. I sit on an Employee Assistance Program committee, and it feels a bit hypocritical to be part of such a group when I fight tooth and nail to keep myself on this earth. I’ve become more aware of the feeling of walking around with secrets galore between the DID, the PTSD, the depression …

Know that I do think of you guys, and I miss you. But I don’t feel right sharing when I have little hope or positivity to offer.Perhaps, in spite of my negativity in this post, it’s a hopeful sign that I’ve found it within myself to even write this post. One can hope.

The night before the session

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Dear Doc,

Tomorrow is the first time I’ll be seeing you since our weekend interaction. You apologized for what happened, and asked me to come in to see you yesterday, and I am heartened that you offered to see me without charging me for the session because of what took place. Even so, I wasn’t ready to see you just yet. I needed a day where you were not a prominent part of my thoughts. I was finally feeling at peace, and, in all honesty, I didn’t want to mess it up. 

Sometimes I don’t know how you’re going to be in a session or on the phone. Issues with the insurance company send you into a tailspin, and there are other times when you can be short with me for any number of reasons. 

I still don’t know what I’m going to decide regarding my treatment with you. At this point I feel like I really don’t even want to talk all that much tomorrow. If that comes to pass it might be the shortest session ever. 

Just typing this was mentally exhausting. And, with that, I’m going to bed.

Beatriz

Just do it, one tiny step at a time.

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You made breakfast at home on a Saturday. You can’t recall the last time you’ve done that.

Short-lived success. Now you feel the cloudy swaths of dissociation floating around you.

But, somehow, the floatiness passes. It actually passes without you having to leave the house. This has never happened in the past. You’ve always had to leave for it pass.

And so you heated up soup for lunch, watched tv, and took a peaceful nap.

You woke up, and drafted a poem. Then you made french toast for dinner. The enormity of what has happened has not escaped you. You cooked three meals in your apartment in one day, three meals! You feel like you should be doing a victory lap of sorts.

You realize that it’s the small victories that are actually the large victories in this journey.