Tag Archives: postaday

Cate called …

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8

I heard from my sister,Cate, unexpectedly. Previously, I wrote about how we had lost our connection. It turns out that she has been struggling herself with personal issues. All this time, Cindy, my therapist had advised me that Cate not speaking to me was not about me, that it was about the fact that I reminded her of the trauma we went through, and that my PTSD further reminded her of that trauma. She tried to convince me that Cate’s absence in my life was not a reflection of how she felt about me. No matter how hard she tried to convince me of this, I still was left feeling like my sister had had enough of me.

All of this made sense, but I couldn’t buy the entire theory. I just felt hurt, and abandoned by Cate. I thought I was an annoyance in her life. It turns out that Cindy was right. Cindy is usually right. One would think I would have figured this out by now since I’ve been seeing her for a few years.

Cindy has tried to convince me that trauma survivors often think that a sudden absence of a person in our lives is because of us, or something we’ve done. She’s tried to teach me that sometimes people absent themselves from our lives for reasons that have little or nothing to do with us. I think I’m finally starting to get the concept that she’s been talking to me about for a few years. I’m a slow learner. 🙂

and it all came to a head …

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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.

gone, here, and gone again

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They’re arguing again, Mom and Dad, yelling at each other, speaking over each other. “God dammit, Momma! What’s the matter with you?” You wish they would stop, just stop. You’re floaty, and you can’t hear very well. Everyone starts to sound muffled, and far, far away.

But then someone’s calling your name …” Beatriz … Beatriz, can you answer Bob’s question?”

You realize you’re in a meeting, Crap! How long were you not here? What did you miss? But then the arguing starts again, and you’re gone …