Fogged down

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5

The fogginess has kicked me.

I am struggling to remain grounded. The dissociation is persistent and exhausting. All I had to do in order to make dinner was reheat some meat in order to make a pot roast sandwich with leftovers. Even that was too daunting. I would up eating cheese and crackers and an apple for dinner. I must have had the nightmare about the director attacking me again because I woke up yet again with that same leg in pain.

This fog is relentless. I’m trying not to let my brain go to the dark place. It’s like I’m crawling in sand to get home. The effort is that excruciating. All my energy goes to trying to keep it together so that I can work. The rest of the time I am trying to put myself back together again so that I can go back to work with some functionality.

And to think that someone told me today that I “dabble in mental illness.” Hah. They have no idea.

 

Smart Heavy

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7

I got to Doc’s in utter despair this morning. Doc suggested that I study what I was feeling as if I was beside it, this way I would be activating the thinking side of my brain instead of the limbic system side. He did warn me that when I do this I may start to get memories of feelings or actual memories. I started to do what he suggested, and without realizing what I was doing I broke into a big smile. At this point, I’ll let Smart Heavy take over …

“Yeah, like I was going to let Beatriz do what Doc wanted. Poor girl isn’t ready yet for that. Doc means well, but he doesn’t know her as well as I do. Doc asked me what my “purpose” is. I told him I’m a heavy, a Smarty Heavy. Not a bouncer. I’m better than a bouncer because I use my words, not my fists, unless I’m forced to do so. However, it’s always as a last resort. 

I told my mother she was an awful parent, didn’t deserve children. She always heard my truth. Doc asked me how that came to be, and I told him it’s because I know right from wrong. I always call things as I see them. For better or for worse, I have no filter. Doc also asked me when I was born. That would be when my mother brought the stupid man home, the idiot that would become my stepfather.

Doc wants to know my name. Yeah, right! Like I would hand that over like a business card! I just gave him my smile that let him know that he was pushing his luck. He was able to accept not knowing my name right away.

It was time for me to speak up though. The little peeps were having a heart attack when Doc suggested his latest exercise. He’s not a bad guy, but the little peeps get scared easily. Someone has to look out for them.”

lost friends

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7

You’ve had a hard day of therapy, so you take yourself to the grocery store for a distraction. It’s usually a good choice. However, today you run into two former friends.

It’s obviously awkward for everyone. They don’t try to hide the Deer-in-the-Headlights look on their face. You say hello. They say hello back with a vacant distant look. You shuffle on as quickly as you can so that everyone can stop feeling awkward.

Afterwards, a part of you hopes for a text or an email from one of them, but, alas, there is none. You finally realize that the friendship is really over.

You drive home, cry a little, and then once you pull into your apartment complex you get out of car and immediately go for a brisk walk. The frozen grocery items can wait while you walk! You turn up the Glee playlist on your iPhone because you need to get the self-defeating thoughts out of your head. You replay “Defying Gravity” a few times, and even “Gives You Hell,” but you feel only mildly better.

The PTSD was too much for them, and a part of you understands. It’s true that they triggered you inadvertently a few months ago, and it was made worse later by one of them. It was The Episode That Made It Worse that was the real breaking point. You realize you’re talking in riddles here, but you can’t possibly relive it again.

You’ll never forget that horrid Winter Dance where you and your partner were on the verge of splitsville. “Billie Jean” started playing, and, for lack of anything else to do, you went on the dance floor to dance by yourself to that horrid song. This short, spunky woman then starts dancing next to you, and says, “Hi, I’m Faith! Doesn’t this suck?” Yes, the dance did suck, and that was the start of your friendship.

You just have to accept that they are gone.