So just recently, my therapist (actually a psychologist) asked me about dissociation. This was in the context of me having had a bad weekend that I shared with him, and there was a moment where I dissociated, and thus told him about that.
He asked about dissociation so I told him using the easiest method I have. I mentioned some elementary school abuse story. Okay, I should have thought that through farther or something. But I didn’t and here I am. That was last week, I think. I don’t know. You guys would know better than me because I got into a not-quite-okay mode and posted here a lot. I even sketched a comic! I saw him twice that week because there was too much to possibly say because it lead into other things, like a time period I haven’t written about here although have alluded to several times.
Meanwhile, this psychologist stops me and says if I say any more about elementary school, he’s going to have to report it. But days later, he’s able to check with his ethics officer and for reasons I won’t share here, he doesn’t have to. If he had done so, it would have been the end of the world. I can’t share why on here. But without even the strength to put the true emotion into these words, MY world would have ended and so would several others’.
So then I feel safer again, and I share some things to him via email. Not too much, for me, but I hadn’t ever shared w/him outside of the office before, so it probably seemed like a lot.
Now to my point. Today, we had an appointment. I was so ill-feeling this morning (nerves because I didn’t know what to expect), I ended up taking anti-anxiety medicine earlier in the day. So, granted I was still on some amount of medicine by the time our appointment came around (it’s half-life is fairly short so it wasn’t a full dose). So it’s possible the medicine was interfering with any sort of ability of me to feel connected.
But it was weird. Kind of like nothing had ever come up? Well, but he did ask if I wanted to talk about anything? I don’t know. I don’t really know what happened. The whole appointment went by and I left and I’m wondering if it was productive in any way whatsoever. I can’t be wasting money like that. He did say that next appointment, I could talk about whatever I’d like. I asked if it would be helpful or harmful to talk about that shit. He thought perhaps it would be helpful.
So in that case — is that I checked with him several times to see if I could have permission via email to share things with him during this time. For example, any sketches or poems, that sometimes help me to try and explain something I can’t vocalize. He said that was fine to bring to him in-person, but he doesn’t want it being sent to him in other ways. He wants everything to be face-to-face. He gave more reasons for why face-to-face is superior but I don’t recall because I was busy talking to myself internally (well, it’s true. I was talking to myself mentally about how important it was for me to be able to share during the week, since I historically chicken-out the day of appointments and know I wouldn’t bring in anything). I did say that out loud — that I would probably be too shy to bring any in. I think I said it out loud, anyway. It’s all kind of a blur.
Anyway. This is all very unsettling for me because next week is my last week around before I’m gone for a while. Then he’s going to be gone for a while. So basically, why go to next week’s appointment? I should cancel that appointment. But maybe I only say that out of bitterness. Maybe it could be productive in some other way?
But I feel like he just doesn’t get it. The can of worms is already cracked open. Maybe he’s trying to put a lid on it. Maybe I’m trying to open it all the way, but that’s a long, long road to go back down.
There IS a desire in me to open the can of worms. I feel like, there is a piece of my life that I still haven’t threaded together into a cohesive narrative. I feel like I’m more ready now than I ever have been before, and I like to know what’s happened in my life and why and how I grew because of it. I ain’t talking about elementary school; that is black and white, easy to understand.
That part of me, that wants to open the can of worms, is really disappointed in this appointment. I know now that I had wanted an excuse for a muse. I had wanted him to inquire and be curious and try to learn more. I had wanted a reason to get out pencil and paper and sketch and revisit papers on that time period and thread together a cohesive understanding. But it’s a dangerous, time-consuming process and, knowing myself, I would need extra support in the meanwhile. I WOULD become clingy and desperate at times; I WOULD probably ask to come in twice a week instead of once at times. I might be weird as I dig through some dirt. But I feel like, in less than a month’s time, I’d have the understanding I so desire.
The one perk of waiting is that the VAST MAJORITY of my writings and drawings on this topic and FROM this time period and directly after are at my parents’ house. Perhaps I could gather those documents within the next year and have them ready. Perhaps I could go to an actual trauma specialist this time and do this once and for all.
That’s all well and good, but with this can of worms cracked, it’s difficult to turn my mind to other things, like homework. I made myself exercise A LOT this weekend, yesterday, and today. I think it helped prevent me from nose-diving straight into a terrible depression. Instead, I just feel kind of … unsupported and scared and like, I must have made a terrible mistake. Embarrassed, I guess. But that latter part is likely because I perceived no feedback from psychologist today. BUT, as I’ve already said, that is either because I was on anti-anxiety medicine and perhaps numbed my ability to sense connection, or perhaps he was staying withdrawn on purpose because my emails and sharing of that sketch scared the shit out of him and he took it literally like I was already clung to his leg or something. He didn’t make any comment about that sketch, btw. That probably made me very sad since I drew that to share with him something I experience.
Ah well, you know? Maybe he doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing. I always assume these psych people know what the hell they’re doing but what if they don’t. Or what if he does, and it was my exact contact during the week that caused today’s appointment to be non-existent…or the anti-anxiety drugs.. LOOP! 🙂