I can’t fully write about the session with Doc because, quite frankly, I’ve grown weary of the situation. I’m willing to see if I can get back to the point where I can trust him again. Hopefully, I can write about this more later in the week. I will say this, I am thoroughly impressed with myself that I did not switch during the session. It was all me the entire time. I’m taking it session by session to see what happens. He knows I’m not happy with him. It wouldn’t be a hard decision if it weren’t for all the progress I’ve made thus far. We shall see what happens next.
Tag Archives: DID
Thank You
I am acutely aware that I am sporadic on here with posting, and with replying to comments. I am also not good at following other’s blogs. It’s a wonder that I still have supportive readers out there.
And, so, thank you beyond measure for sticking with me, supporting me, reading my blog even in the face of epic silence when I am late replying to comments, or very tardy with the next post. Your support is not unrecognized.
Sometimes it’s all I can do to post, and then I just kind of float on by until I post again. I’m realizing more and more how dissociative I have been through out my life, so dissociative that it became a reflex for me, a default of sorts. This past weekend I’ve really noticed the extent to which I tend to dissociate. I noticed this because it was like world around me was sharper, louder, clearer, like a swath of cotton was pulled away from my face, and the world became more apparent to me. It was the first time I felt like I was in the world, and not a spectator to it.
Thank you for sticking with me, and I will try to be better at being engaged on here, but just know that if or when I do disappear that I am trying to get back. I will always try to get back. I promise that.
Fear of living
Fear is in the driver’s seat. It’s the driving force of too many things right now.
You’re afraid to walk, afraid to drive, afraid to breathe.
You’re even afraid to write. You feel as if you almost don’t know how to write anymore. You are stuck, stuck like hell, and you don’t know how to get out of it.
If only the feeling of sinking deeper into a hole would go away.
+++
I should write.
Write about what?
… the fact that I’m utterly and completely freaked out …
… that I’m stuck, but time continues ticking on, and I have to catch up at some point, but I don’t know how …
… that my my fall on Thursday that landed me on the back of my head has me afraid of everything, afraid of losing my ability to walk, my livelihood … though my head is fine, my brain is now chronically freaked out …
But, I can hardly write, hardly breathe, and it appears there’s no way out.
A Year in the Life of PTSD 