The Hold Up

Every step is wrought with a pain I can't explain in my effort to erase the source of the pain.
Anger, I am sorry to say, is likely the strength I need to tap into as part of my grieving process.
Otherwise I am just hurting and slowly dying while I burn out to the professionals that I so desperately needed.
And I say that not because of romantic transference but because they really were the right place and the right professionals
but they could not handle me simply because dear Dr. He (though he's already denied it) in his own brokenness, developed feelings and lost objectivity.
...and because he is so sweet and charming and perfect, (I know, I have seen how this man works)I will be disregarded and painted quite ill because
 we all wanted to protect him.
I am the fool
but I was also quite broken, not there to simply play games.
I have a phone number or two
and I am supposed to call and set up
I have given chance after chance for clarification
I don't know how or who to see or even where to start in knowing what the prognosis for my head will be...
But I know I have crazy chemistry
and I don't know what to make of my life anymore.
Keep fighting they say
but I don't want to fight
I just want to be a lover
not a fighter
and I am so sorry if that is off-putting
but my eyes keep on telling me so
even when I think I can move forward with the fight
that I have little choice but to fight
because the alternative is
utter failure
...
processing
trying to tap in
to the inner strength
that is fighting for me
trying to keep moving in the forward direction
ever severing
with a surety
that tie
that I wish did not need to die....
today I cry
while tomorrow
I'll try
once again for the tiny victory
of standing up for me.
I am not what they made me out to be
And I am not really angry
just hurt and confused
and intelligent enough to know
that anger holds power
even has it's place
when hard things have to be done...

Off-putting and processing.

Off-putting.
That is the word a friend used to describe some of my... behaviors? today in a conversation. I can tell you that not all that long ago that very part of our conversation would have been too painful for me to hear. Not because I don't think that I am, but rather because I know that I am or can be. This is something I have struggled to understand about me for a very long time. I know that I was in some ways or many off-putting with Dr. He and it hurt me so bad that he wouldn't tell me what it was I was doing. It is part of what I was fighting to understand and in my eyes it was part of his job to help me know what it was I was doing so I could learn what I needed to change.
Off-putting comes with the territory of brain injury you see, we are often far too honest and blunt. The paths of our brains don't funnel the same and the creative ways we adapt can seem quite offensive when really they are not at all intended to be.
So this time, my ears perked up and it did not even sting to hear this label attached to me, rather I was glad to hear the honesty. It helps that it was said lovingly from a friend whom I trust and that I know is trying to help me.
Conversation with her, and then working with the adolescent I am academically advising, I am feel the turning of points today.
What is tricky and hard and what I can't quite figure out, but apparently is off-putting, is that I am still  somewhat attached to damned Dr. He even when I think that I am really not. So this is off-putting and maybe also the anger in the word that proceeded his name.
Some friends have related to me by connecting this to boyfriends of the past, and I have myself done that to help remind me of how wounds will heal. But the real problem is he was never my boyfriend (though I have on occasion sarcastically referred to him as that) he was my therapist and a crucial medical provider for me.
So I am not sure if this honesty now is off putting but I would like to continue to process.
As my therapist and medical provider, one with expertise that I have needed since I was 12, I became his problem the moment he choose this profession, so it becomes rather complex for my brain and apparently my body/physiology when he rejects and denies me his attention and services because he may have developed misguided feelings for me.
It was not me that could not work through whatever it was I was feeling. It was he. And because he refused to see or covered it to protect himself I was sent to a much worse off place and this does stir in me anger. An anger that is off-putting?
So what do I do about it and how do I handle the medical malpractice that then spiraled out of control with his associates who happened to be the "right" place and "right" people that simply did not want to serve me any longer because of their own paranoia.
Is this public shaming of a woman for a mans indiscretions? It certainly seems like it is.
There lies in this story so many hot ticket items of the kind that no one likes to speak of.
Regardless, off-putting and vulnerable I am learning how to stand up for myself. And maybe I am choosing to no longer be so sweet that I will simply continue to turn the other cheek when I know that others are also suffering in sweet, kind, sympathetic, self-destructive silence. Countertransference another hushed hot ticket item.
I hope my friends like this friend keep offering help and guidance and I hope that as others listen they will also see that even people like me deserve to be protected and guarded from the lies of ethically discarded.

Adventure, Physiology and Guns

Yesterday we had an adventure. Spontaneous, not super significant, but an adventure like we have not had in awhile. My husband had reason to drive out to west desert country, Tooele, to be exact. He asked if I wanted to come, actually it was probably more the other way around first, I had to drop hints that I wanted him to ask. I asked if we could go to the wonder stone quarry. They are some of my favorite little rocks. So plain on the outside but quite interesting and beautiful inside. He agreed so we were off to have an adventure.

Outside

Inside

My daughter laid out a few of her favorites.

It was nice. I loved it. I felt the chemistry push back a little, it was wanting to go to high ...and if I am really honest and documenting the effects of the dropping of a patient in transference and mania I will tell you it is annoying that those feelings bring Dr. He to mind... because he is now tied to my messed up chemistry and especially the happy more high feelings. What a kill joy, even though he probably is not, so I don't let it and I try to stay present and find the balance in my reality and mighty fine moments.
I know that I need him to fade since he is really a jerk (even though he presents as quite sweet and charming) who won't take responsibility, professionally or personally, and has no respect or concern for me.
And that is all I want to say about that.
I do hope you see I am rational and can see it for what it is but the effects are still rather psychologically profound and significant. And I hope anyone else experiencing anything similar knows they are not alone and what they are going through is really not right.
In spite of the annoying physiological association, our fun adventure helped me feel more of me again and reminded me of the simple things I enjoy.

After our fun little adventure my husband was craving a good hamburger and it was surprisingly difficult to find. We ended up at some .357 place because it had good reviews. .357 is a reference to guns since the place was connected to a shooting range and gun store. We weren't sure it was quite what we were looking for so we decided to look at the gun side of things while we discussed our decision.
They had a display of hand guns you could handle and I was looking at this as we discussed. I picked them up. They seemed like toys. I have handled guns plenty before, but a chill ran through me as the thoughts that I have been fighting to shut down came into my minds eye once again. I put it down and said with out even thinking "I think I need to leave."
My husband seemed to see something in me so he did not object or delay. And as we walked away I realized again just how easy it'd have been for me to have ended it all, like my brother, if I had easy access or if a gun had been left laying around.
They never are in our house.
My brother had served in the military in Afghanistan and that may be why he slept with a loaded gun.
But we do have guns in our house and I am glad I don't know exactly where they are or how to load them. (Actually I probably do know how to load them but have conveniently forgotten and I am choosing to keep it that way right now)
...Last night I thought of the gun safe in our garage, the one that my brother-in-law brought over when my sister was not doing so well.
And I have mixed feelings about guns all of the sudden -a right I know needs protecting after being held up a gun point in a country where they are illegal, yet a very real threat to me right now.
And I don't want to go into the politics and nonsense of it but right now I am glad I don't have access ...and so last night I let my husband know to make sure it stays that way for some time.
It is a symptom and this is an intelligent preventative measure that I would suggest to anyone else who may also have this symptom.
This is reality.
Please understand.
My fight I will fight with bare hands.
and I feel this is important to share.