Why did you choose to go this route with me.
To banish me from the hope of recovery
the hope of reconciling my split parts with an understanding of how TBI had effected those splits
To take away any hope of successful reconciliation with anyone
...successful communication
To devalue me so completely.
"you want something to cry about, I'll give you something to cry about"
Do you think I am a fraud in your industry?
Or are you all frauds in your industry?
Is the industry itself a fraud?
I suppose in a very sad way that can give me hope
but can it?...as I continue to fail in my attempts to prove
that I am worth investing in.
Will I ever be given the chance to prove myself or have I already proven myself to my fullest potential
and I need to resign myself to acceptance of this life the way it is and being what everyone else believes it should be.
Sunday, March 3, 2019
Friday, March 1, 2019
The Best Way to Kill Fantasy is Through Reality
so it's time to write again... I really have a lot to work through this morning and I thought to put it in my 200 plus page self discovery report but I think I want this one "out there"
I was talking to my sister the other day, who lives a couple of states away. I told her about how the the facility manager treated me when I tried to speak with her when I went in to request a copy of their patient bill of rights. I think I have mentioned this; that she was aggressive and rude, she yelled at me in front of my kids and she refused to provide me with my medical records or a copy of the patients rights and responsibilities. She even left the area code off of the phone # she very begrudgingly provided, a passive aggressive move -I think. I told my sister the details and my sisters simple reply was;
"she's in love with him."
Hmmm... Interesting. Funny thing is, something similar had crossed my mind in my first encounter with her. But it had merely crossed it.
This is something to consider though.
And this is where I struggle to suggest things because I do not think so highly of myself so I may have to take a 3rd person perspective on this one because when I do that I see that this possibility could make sense. I'll write in 1st person but I'm thinking more in an objective 3rd person way.
Is it possible?
If so
This guy had it bad for me
and she is extremely jealous because she either has some sort of relationship with him or wants it. That would make sense why she would behave so incredibly unprofessionally and why she would even cross into the potentially illegal (denying a patient their records and refusing to address complaints or provide them with the information they need to resolve their issues). It would make sense why they would not want to keep me in house and label me with a scarlet letter. It makes sense in that realm with her.
But what about his feelings for me? Could they have been that intense?
He had it bad for me? Is it possible that while I was hearing that he wanted nothing to do with me -ever- to mean that he did not think I was capable (of helping him, of becoming a therapist myself, of being a friend or anything or even of being his client anymore) or worth his time... maybe he really was professing his profoundly deep but forbidden feelings for me? Maybe he genuinely believes that it was not mania at all but the feelings of those forbidden feelings reciprocated? Maybe it is.
I can not stand that thought. It grips my heart and presses it so hard I am certain I won't survive.
I doubt it because I am too practical and I can easily see so many reasons for a typical transference countertransference or even atypical, but still, not something nearly as soulmate-esque: It could have simply been that we both love his profession but just from different sides of it and that fascination was misplaced or misinterpreted as a more romantic connection as it was not something either party fully realized or understood. I think this is a very real possibility and something I would love to discus/explore. It makes sense and could be so beneficial to so many people if we could work together to better understand that kind of transference-countertransference scenario.
But alas, I don't imagine that the intrigue of the way I had accommodated and intellectually handled head injury for so long, without formal training or complete understanding of what I was actually dealing with, would get me banned from his facility. Of course they currently have me painted as a Liability so the sad loss of that is yet another failure and lost potential I get to grieve.
...and, though I am just starting my day after a good nights sleep, I am ready to sleep again and my mind is already worn down by the thought of this ridiculous but deeply desired "romantic" connection that I am certain I need to accept as only a product of my manic delusions.
This is why I so desperately want clarification but making so many mistakes in asking for it. This is my most vulnerable confession ...
- January- I know I need to follow up with the concussion doctor if I want to understand this new mood instability but I also know it will be hard to because she is in the same facility as Dr. He.
I am waiting for my name to be called.
A tall middle aged man with longish hair and a beard walks out of the far door with a plain white paper in his hand.
I strain to see the handwriting
I recognize it instantly and it makes me happy. I love that handwriting. [If I were a handwriting analysts I would guess the owner of it were well educated, well disciplined and responsible but also had a playful side and secretly a touch of hopeless romantic at heart.]
I am happy to see he is doing well
and he is helping people.
I am happy for this man because I know he is in the best hands.
I am hopeful that I will catch a glimpse of Dr. He as he comes out to get his next patient. But instead I notice an Asian lady coming out to get a patient... and then she does again. This is unusual, I have never seen that happen before. This time as she walks by she seems to be staring me down. She at least notices me. I do not know her so I am not sure why. It is awhile before I am called back and Dr. P never comes out.
Finally I am called in. I ask the nurse who is taking me back if I can talk with Dr. He while I am there.
As I try to explain to my concussion doctor my breakdown and current symptoms I struggle.
I am in protection mode, I do not know who I can trust and I do not want to get Dr. He into trouble. I do not want to cause him harm or further complicate his already complex life. I break down and am an emotional mess. I beg to see Cherri, (Cherri since he can no longer be Dr. He to me) because he knows what happened, he will know what to do and how to help me.
"I need him to be real again" I say.
And I do
the manic fed fantasy is destroying me, and I just need to understand it from a rational place, but I need him to be real for that to happen.
It is interpreted differently than that. Evidence that I am "crazy"
But deep down inside I know it is not just me that put me here and I know there is something more to it. I know this because it is new territory for me. I know it because of how it has effected me, my relationships and my thoughts. ...and like it or not we are all connected in this universe and what we do impacts others... Especially when you are intentionally working with the psychology of others.
... so my most vulnerable confession becomes evidence of either how seriously difficult mood instability, head injury, mania, mental illness or whatever it is really can make life for a person
OR
evidence of how counter-transference is being handled or used so carelessly and unscrupulously by facilities and practitioners, the APA, and within the field of psychology.
I was talking to my sister the other day, who lives a couple of states away. I told her about how the the facility manager treated me when I tried to speak with her when I went in to request a copy of their patient bill of rights. I think I have mentioned this; that she was aggressive and rude, she yelled at me in front of my kids and she refused to provide me with my medical records or a copy of the patients rights and responsibilities. She even left the area code off of the phone # she very begrudgingly provided, a passive aggressive move -I think. I told my sister the details and my sisters simple reply was;
"she's in love with him."
Hmmm... Interesting. Funny thing is, something similar had crossed my mind in my first encounter with her. But it had merely crossed it.
This is something to consider though.
And this is where I struggle to suggest things because I do not think so highly of myself so I may have to take a 3rd person perspective on this one because when I do that I see that this possibility could make sense. I'll write in 1st person but I'm thinking more in an objective 3rd person way.
Is it possible?
If so
This guy had it bad for me
and she is extremely jealous because she either has some sort of relationship with him or wants it. That would make sense why she would behave so incredibly unprofessionally and why she would even cross into the potentially illegal (denying a patient their records and refusing to address complaints or provide them with the information they need to resolve their issues). It would make sense why they would not want to keep me in house and label me with a scarlet letter. It makes sense in that realm with her.
But what about his feelings for me? Could they have been that intense?
He had it bad for me? Is it possible that while I was hearing that he wanted nothing to do with me -ever- to mean that he did not think I was capable (of helping him, of becoming a therapist myself, of being a friend or anything or even of being his client anymore) or worth his time... maybe he really was professing his profoundly deep but forbidden feelings for me? Maybe he genuinely believes that it was not mania at all but the feelings of those forbidden feelings reciprocated? Maybe it is.
I can not stand that thought. It grips my heart and presses it so hard I am certain I won't survive.
I doubt it because I am too practical and I can easily see so many reasons for a typical transference countertransference or even atypical, but still, not something nearly as soulmate-esque: It could have simply been that we both love his profession but just from different sides of it and that fascination was misplaced or misinterpreted as a more romantic connection as it was not something either party fully realized or understood. I think this is a very real possibility and something I would love to discus/explore. It makes sense and could be so beneficial to so many people if we could work together to better understand that kind of transference-countertransference scenario.
But alas, I don't imagine that the intrigue of the way I had accommodated and intellectually handled head injury for so long, without formal training or complete understanding of what I was actually dealing with, would get me banned from his facility. Of course they currently have me painted as a Liability so the sad loss of that is yet another failure and lost potential I get to grieve.
...and, though I am just starting my day after a good nights sleep, I am ready to sleep again and my mind is already worn down by the thought of this ridiculous but deeply desired "romantic" connection that I am certain I need to accept as only a product of my manic delusions.
This is why I so desperately want clarification but making so many mistakes in asking for it. This is my most vulnerable confession ...
- January- I know I need to follow up with the concussion doctor if I want to understand this new mood instability but I also know it will be hard to because she is in the same facility as Dr. He.
I am waiting for my name to be called.
A tall middle aged man with longish hair and a beard walks out of the far door with a plain white paper in his hand.
I strain to see the handwriting
I recognize it instantly and it makes me happy. I love that handwriting. [If I were a handwriting analysts I would guess the owner of it were well educated, well disciplined and responsible but also had a playful side and secretly a touch of hopeless romantic at heart.]
I am happy to see he is doing well
and he is helping people.
I am happy for this man because I know he is in the best hands.
I am hopeful that I will catch a glimpse of Dr. He as he comes out to get his next patient. But instead I notice an Asian lady coming out to get a patient... and then she does again. This is unusual, I have never seen that happen before. This time as she walks by she seems to be staring me down. She at least notices me. I do not know her so I am not sure why. It is awhile before I am called back and Dr. P never comes out.
Finally I am called in. I ask the nurse who is taking me back if I can talk with Dr. He while I am there.
As I try to explain to my concussion doctor my breakdown and current symptoms I struggle.
I am in protection mode, I do not know who I can trust and I do not want to get Dr. He into trouble. I do not want to cause him harm or further complicate his already complex life. I break down and am an emotional mess. I beg to see Cherri, (Cherri since he can no longer be Dr. He to me) because he knows what happened, he will know what to do and how to help me.
"I need him to be real again" I say.
And I do
the manic fed fantasy is destroying me, and I just need to understand it from a rational place, but I need him to be real for that to happen.
It is interpreted differently than that. Evidence that I am "crazy"
But deep down inside I know it is not just me that put me here and I know there is something more to it. I know this because it is new territory for me. I know it because of how it has effected me, my relationships and my thoughts. ...and like it or not we are all connected in this universe and what we do impacts others... Especially when you are intentionally working with the psychology of others.
... so my most vulnerable confession becomes evidence of either how seriously difficult mood instability, head injury, mania, mental illness or whatever it is really can make life for a person
OR
evidence of how counter-transference is being handled or used so carelessly and unscrupulously by facilities and practitioners, the APA, and within the field of psychology.
Wednesday, February 27, 2019
Depression
this post was drafted in 1/26-ish
Remember the Jesus Man and the night I spent in the waiting room of a mental health facility in Florida?
The next morning when I got to be evaluated I was told that I had depression. Maybe manic was used in there too, and maybe the word clinical. I really don't recall, at that point depression was the only word that I knew so it was the word that stuck. It was quite the conversation and bit of a hard one, especially since I came from my family where you just get over it and stop feeling sorry for yourself. I was not sure how to handle this news and was not sure I wanted to take medication. But I agreed. She was very persuasive and I liked her temperament so I listened and agreed. I also agreed to meet with a lovely psychologist, her name was Peggy (or maybe that was the psychiatrist). It was in talking with her that I learned that it was actually not a normal thing to have thoughts of self destruction and how. She legitimately and authentically answered "no" after giving it some thought when I asked her if she really had never thought about it.
It was mind blowing.
Maybe there really was a medical problem with me.
I also explained how I felt I was being crushed by an anvil like in the cartoons, only it was slow and constant.
I told here about how I wanted to break my brain open so I could see all the pieces and sort out the puzzle that was inside. I explained how I was stuck in indecision because I wanted to do everything and if I started down one path that would keep me from doing the other things and then I'd be missing out on those. She learned about my excessive jobs (I think I held four at the time) and my slew of activities I was involved in during high school. I didn't see her that many times, but I loved her and she was a great source of comfort to me. She helped me be okay with taking medication.
When I arrived back home all the way across the country a few months later, one of the first things I did was head to the library to find out what I could about this "illness" I had been diagnosed with. I think the word manic may have been used because I remember information about that in my stack of books. My stack was at least knee high, probably closer to my waist. One of those stacks that make you think "Wow, I am surprised a public library lets people check out that many books at once."
I renewed them a couple of times.
I will admit I did not fully read all of them, I probably didn't fully read any of them front to back really, but I read a lot. I skimmed to what was most important to know. What would help me. I only skimmed most of the personal stories as I started to feel the sense of hopelessness that was a common theme.
While I learned a lot, like that caffeine and alcohol are major contributors to depression and anxiety, that regular exercise and a healthy diet were important etc., Over all I really did not like how damn depressing they all were. How so much of the writing was there to convince me or my family members that this was going to be a problem for me my entire life.
With much resolve and determination I decided that was not for me. I would not like that to be me. I was not going to let this be a damned lifelong depressing battle.
And though I enjoy some crazy sometimes and I do occasionally go on antidepressant (this most recent because of the car accident) I feel that over all I have beat the hellish depression of my younger days. Even having lost myself and feeling the pain of rejection from some pretty intense situations, I am not depressed, at times delusional, sometimes sad and hurt. okay, I suppose sometimes I am depressed but I have learned so many coping strategies and know how to identify it, treat it, embrace it, and avoid it as needed. And really I feel quite happy about this. Looking back I can say it sucks and it's hard but I can also say I have learned and gained so much in really truly trying to overcome it and/or work with it. I am a better and happier version of me because of it!
Really, depression is not all bad. :)
Remember the Jesus Man and the night I spent in the waiting room of a mental health facility in Florida?
The next morning when I got to be evaluated I was told that I had depression. Maybe manic was used in there too, and maybe the word clinical. I really don't recall, at that point depression was the only word that I knew so it was the word that stuck. It was quite the conversation and bit of a hard one, especially since I came from my family where you just get over it and stop feeling sorry for yourself. I was not sure how to handle this news and was not sure I wanted to take medication. But I agreed. She was very persuasive and I liked her temperament so I listened and agreed. I also agreed to meet with a lovely psychologist, her name was Peggy (or maybe that was the psychiatrist). It was in talking with her that I learned that it was actually not a normal thing to have thoughts of self destruction and how. She legitimately and authentically answered "no" after giving it some thought when I asked her if she really had never thought about it.
It was mind blowing.
Maybe there really was a medical problem with me.
I also explained how I felt I was being crushed by an anvil like in the cartoons, only it was slow and constant.
I told here about how I wanted to break my brain open so I could see all the pieces and sort out the puzzle that was inside. I explained how I was stuck in indecision because I wanted to do everything and if I started down one path that would keep me from doing the other things and then I'd be missing out on those. She learned about my excessive jobs (I think I held four at the time) and my slew of activities I was involved in during high school. I didn't see her that many times, but I loved her and she was a great source of comfort to me. She helped me be okay with taking medication.
When I arrived back home all the way across the country a few months later, one of the first things I did was head to the library to find out what I could about this "illness" I had been diagnosed with. I think the word manic may have been used because I remember information about that in my stack of books. My stack was at least knee high, probably closer to my waist. One of those stacks that make you think "Wow, I am surprised a public library lets people check out that many books at once."
I renewed them a couple of times.
I will admit I did not fully read all of them, I probably didn't fully read any of them front to back really, but I read a lot. I skimmed to what was most important to know. What would help me. I only skimmed most of the personal stories as I started to feel the sense of hopelessness that was a common theme.
While I learned a lot, like that caffeine and alcohol are major contributors to depression and anxiety, that regular exercise and a healthy diet were important etc., Over all I really did not like how damn depressing they all were. How so much of the writing was there to convince me or my family members that this was going to be a problem for me my entire life.
With much resolve and determination I decided that was not for me. I would not like that to be me. I was not going to let this be a damned lifelong depressing battle.
And though I enjoy some crazy sometimes and I do occasionally go on antidepressant (this most recent because of the car accident) I feel that over all I have beat the hellish depression of my younger days. Even having lost myself and feeling the pain of rejection from some pretty intense situations, I am not depressed, at times delusional, sometimes sad and hurt. okay, I suppose sometimes I am depressed but I have learned so many coping strategies and know how to identify it, treat it, embrace it, and avoid it as needed. And really I feel quite happy about this. Looking back I can say it sucks and it's hard but I can also say I have learned and gained so much in really truly trying to overcome it and/or work with it. I am a better and happier version of me because of it!
Really, depression is not all bad. :)
The Seductress
“Stop emailing me” It was a direct command, stated very boldly. It was a side of him I had not seen before and it was a bit scary but mostly it was odd, because it was meant to be scary and it was meant to be a type of Jedi mind trick. I figured that much. and looking back it is funny to me.
“yeah, sorry about that,” I responded casually, “I figured I had that luxury..."He scrambled... soft voice, maybe baffled by my reaction, "It's just that it was... very deep and... it could get me in trouble..." or something to that effect, but he didn't seem to know quite what to say or maybe even what he was saying.
I couldn't figure why it would get him into trouble. Nothing "wrong" had been said or transpired.
...but then again I was a bit... oh, yep, there it is; manic... which was actually the point I was trying to make or what I was trying to help him see at the time through the emails, (though that was not my manic conscious intention; however, looking back at them it is clearly obvious)
and, well, in those manic times... interpretations are very easily misconstrued.
I think some of his staff think I was there with the intent to seduce. I think they have tried to convince him of that. Or he them.
It's taken me awhile to figure that one out, because it is harder to figure out the things people suspect or are likely accusing you of when your intentions are so far from that.
But I think my mystical manic abilities fooled them and they felt threatened by my temporary superpowers, so that is what made sense to their menial mortal minds.
Which must mean I am really good because they are the professionals. They are the ones with doctorates, fancy titles of influence and accolades and yet they felt and feel threatened by little old me!
A power struggle and I was winning when I wasn't even playing.
its so freaking hilarious!
(but also very frustrating)
and as far as the Jedi mind tricks go: It won't work on me if it is that obvious and I will let you know that you are only allowed to have as much power over me as I allow you to have. I'll obey if I want to obey.
Buried me, coming to the surface
Yes mam'
Welcome Back
Tuesday, February 26, 2019
Cherished and grieved
... and on that note I will add that I am realizing that I can not simply let go and forget those people who I cherish in my heart. When I try to my heart breaks and hurts and I find myself fading and dying with them. And while I may not be able to have them in my life all the time or even at all, I will forever cherish them -no matter the fight I have to fight for me- and my heart will always be open for and to them.
And today, this new day like everyday, I embrace me and continue to work to be the best version of me. Today I am choosing to be patient with my grieving. To love myself through it and forgive myself. To be kind to myself because I did not ask for this and I was not ready to grieve a loss that was both significant to me and confusing.
Today I am not trying to fight, push out or burn up memories I am just letting them be what they are and loving them the way I do when I think of others I have lost.
I would never try to push memories of my brother out, try to force myself to "get over" him. He is cherished to me and I hold onto and cherish the memories of him.
I found strength today in thinking of my ex-therapist similarly. I do not think of him like I do a brother but he was a cherished and dear person to me with whom I connected easily and more deeply than I ever let him know. While I understand I have to let him go and grieve that loss I do not want to lose him anymore than I wanted to lose my brother and so I suppose I will have to let his memories stay... because as he fades and die so do I*
...and I still have far too much life left in me
(*and though that sounds super romantic [kind of super cheesy] and maybe it is; it also may just merely be the one sided reality for the client/patient that was dealt the hand of premature/mishandled termination, lost objectivity, and/or office politics driven decisions in counseling/psychotherapy)
And today, this new day like everyday, I embrace me and continue to work to be the best version of me. Today I am choosing to be patient with my grieving. To love myself through it and forgive myself. To be kind to myself because I did not ask for this and I was not ready to grieve a loss that was both significant to me and confusing.
Today I am not trying to fight, push out or burn up memories I am just letting them be what they are and loving them the way I do when I think of others I have lost.
I would never try to push memories of my brother out, try to force myself to "get over" him. He is cherished to me and I hold onto and cherish the memories of him.
I found strength today in thinking of my ex-therapist similarly. I do not think of him like I do a brother but he was a cherished and dear person to me with whom I connected easily and more deeply than I ever let him know. While I understand I have to let him go and grieve that loss I do not want to lose him anymore than I wanted to lose my brother and so I suppose I will have to let his memories stay... because as he fades and die so do I*
...and I still have far too much life left in me
(*and though that sounds super romantic [
Isabella
While we were in Brazil (my kids and myself) my son participated in a youth beach soccer group once a week -Flamenco's, I believe. It was pretty fun to see what they were teaching the kids in Brazil soccer organizations because many of the moves are "illegal" in our US youth soccer organizations (i.e. bicycle kicks and headers). My daughter and I enjoyed hanging out on the beach and watching while my son played. My daughter participated in dance instead of soccer while there so she hung with me instead of the soccer kids.
One week we met a lady who was visiting Rio from a different Brazilian state. Her daughter being a huge soccer enthusiast was excited to participate in the beach soccer practice.
Isabella had done some schooling in the US and had also lived in New Zealand (the daughter was born there and her dad still lived there) so she was an easy person for us to talk to since she was fluent in English (we were far from fluent in Portuguese).
We hit it off very well, so well that she invited us to come visit her in her home state of Bahia.
This may be the sort of thing that earns me a reputation for being crazy but after some phone conversations and some WhatsApp communication we decided to take her up on the offer. So off we went to stay with Isabella and her daughter and some of their friends for 2 weeks.
My son still considers this the best two weeks of his life. If he could live anywhere or travel anywhere in the world he insists it would be Pria de Forte. It really was an amazing two weeks and I absolutely love and admire the friends we made. We learned so much from them in such a short period of time and had so many great experiences it feels like it was a lifetime worth of experiences.
But there is one image of the beautiful, quirky, carefree, and amazing Isabella that is forever etched in my memory that I find myself more often referring to in my broken brain; it is of Isabella standing in the airport with her eyes closed taking a deep breath and slowly, though not super obviously letting it out. It was and had been a bizarre and stressful day, by no fault of any of our parties (well, maybe a little of it) but she remained calm, present and pleasant. I was impressed.
I had witnessed her doing this other times and it impressed me. Knowing what I knew about her pilates training and enthusiasm I figured it was a centering technique that came from that -I am not certain- but I loved the simple yet profound example she set for me as she would take these deep breaths and release them in such a controlled way.
She is one of my all-time favorite people in this world even though we haven't seen each other for years and rarely talk, but the moments we had are highly cherished and her influence lives on in me forever as I refer back to her when I need to take my own calming and cleansing breaths to help me stay calm, focused and happy. I will forever love her and her daughter as they had become part of my heart.
One week we met a lady who was visiting Rio from a different Brazilian state. Her daughter being a huge soccer enthusiast was excited to participate in the beach soccer practice.
Isabella had done some schooling in the US and had also lived in New Zealand (the daughter was born there and her dad still lived there) so she was an easy person for us to talk to since she was fluent in English (we were far from fluent in Portuguese).
We hit it off very well, so well that she invited us to come visit her in her home state of Bahia.
This may be the sort of thing that earns me a reputation for being crazy but after some phone conversations and some WhatsApp communication we decided to take her up on the offer. So off we went to stay with Isabella and her daughter and some of their friends for 2 weeks.
My son still considers this the best two weeks of his life. If he could live anywhere or travel anywhere in the world he insists it would be Pria de Forte. It really was an amazing two weeks and I absolutely love and admire the friends we made. We learned so much from them in such a short period of time and had so many great experiences it feels like it was a lifetime worth of experiences.
But there is one image of the beautiful, quirky, carefree, and amazing Isabella that is forever etched in my memory that I find myself more often referring to in my broken brain; it is of Isabella standing in the airport with her eyes closed taking a deep breath and slowly, though not super obviously letting it out. It was and had been a bizarre and stressful day, by no fault of any of our parties (well, maybe a little of it) but she remained calm, present and pleasant. I was impressed.
I had witnessed her doing this other times and it impressed me. Knowing what I knew about her pilates training and enthusiasm I figured it was a centering technique that came from that -I am not certain- but I loved the simple yet profound example she set for me as she would take these deep breaths and release them in such a controlled way.
She is one of my all-time favorite people in this world even though we haven't seen each other for years and rarely talk, but the moments we had are highly cherished and her influence lives on in me forever as I refer back to her when I need to take my own calming and cleansing breaths to help me stay calm, focused and happy. I will forever love her and her daughter as they had become part of my heart.
Sunday, February 24, 2019
Are you crazy 2?
"what do you hope to get out of it"
that is the question of filing a complaint
a discussion, understanding, a chance to clarify; when I am stronger and more rational, a chance to set things straight when I am no longer a child and I am willing to be vulnerable; not when I am forced to be vulnerable and naively being played. Even a chance to test my own stability and try my boundaries, a chance to put him back into a reality reference on my terms since treatment was supposed to be about me and not him. It did not end that way. It was non-negotiable coming down to what he needs versus what I need. But he was in "the position of power" so his needs win.
It did not and does not need to be that way. I did not need to be sacrificed to save him. I want a chance to rewrite the ending in a way that my brain can balance better and in a way that lines up with the idea I was sold: that they will do their best to do no harm and that treatment was supposed to be about me and helping me.
"it'll never happen" they say
"they don't care and it is really just about money".. and now liability they tell me
I know that is the sad reality but it is not where I choose to put my faith.
I'll try anyway
unfortunately I make so many mistakes. I have made so many mistakes
but that is the irony and the paradox and all those things that are funny about this anyway. I am allowed to make those mistakes and it makes perfect sense that I do. They are the ones who are supposed to be helping me work through that. That is what I am paying them for. They are the ones being paid to see and understand that, figure that out, and then help me work through those problems. I want to. I am the "perfect" client/patient in that regard, and yet they are refusing. They don't want to and are unwilling to do their professed jobs. They would rather do harm. The office manager/director or whatever she is, actually yelled at me, in front of my kids. It upset my kids more than it upset me. They needed to talk about it, they hate her and think she is a horrible person. They now hate the whole operation, even when I try to rationalize some of it. I think it is best to allow them that pain and to allow them to stand up for me and themselves by feeling angry and even saying mean things about her. I don't think it would be good for me or them to work to convince them right now about how we need to be kind and give people the benefit of the doubt.
Sometimes the only cheek left to turn is a bare-mooned ass.
After all she did this yelling after 2 weeks of ignoring a request to resolve these matters and refusing to provide me with a copy of the patients rights and responsibilities. She insisted I was asking for Dr. P to still be my therapist when I clearly stated then and in the email request I had sent that I DO NOT want that but rather want to resolve what had happened with who it had happened with and not with other therapists and doctors that don't have the full story and that continues to cost my family more money; with this complication and his statement of car accident treatment being complete it is no longer due to the car accident, even if the mood stability crazy is directly linked to it... so it will only come form our pockets. Their "solution" is keeping a cycle of harm going.
It is insanity
It is absolute insanity
I think they think I am trying or was trying to seduce him. They are wrong.
I think they think I might try to sue them
If they keep it up, they might be right, but that is not at all the route I want to go yet at some point their actions suggest there might be grounds to, because ignoring, intimidating, avoiding, and charging new charges for a treatment that so obviously went awry [and who knows when it stopped being about me] really is not okay. But still, I'd rather not go down that path and I still think this can be worked out
I have a lot of faith in humanity.
In people and foolishly maybe, but I still do, have a lot of faith in Dr. P.
I see no reason not to. If I try and fail then I will be disappointed. If I don't try at all then I agree to their crazy and I am mess for who knows how long and I will be disappointed. Either way I will be disappointed. I'd rather put my faith in people and work to be the change I wish to see, even with my very flawed me.
I'd rather try and be wrong than not try and be right.
and here is my new epiphany:
I am not the one who is insane
it is all crazy
I just have a harder time ignoring crazy and staying emotionally balanced through it
I am more sensitive to the insanities of our duel natures and that most people can just play along with
I have a harder time ignoring crazy and being okay with it
and that is it
I have solved it. hah!
go me
I was right and you were wrong, and learning to embrace insanity really is what I need to work on. but not just mine. I have to recognize and embrace others insanity as well.
It feels good to be able to move beyond me and solving me.
Now that I have solved me
I can continue to be the change I wish to see in the world
as just little old me
I am not significant and they see no value in me
But it matters very little because they are wrong.
They could learn a lot from me. I really could help them. I am the other side of their profession that they have lost touch with and I will try to help them see that
but in the end I will be okay, knowing I gave it my best shot no matter what happens.
I hope they will hear me if not for their sake for mine because I wish for my heart not to be stuck in the confusion it is in for too much longer and getting Dr. P back into a more solidly real form can fix that.... or break me completely again, but I'm willing to take that risk. Either way, I'd at least know for sure what kind of broken I am and how to move forward. Its a win win, instead of a lose lose. I am the patient who needs to have some say in the direction of her care, that is all. I am the client who actually can recover and move on, knowing we are not in this alone. Someone who has the faith to keep trying.
Please give me that chance.
so Are you crazy 2? Yes, yes you are -but I bet you already knew that
... and then I am finding that distance, breaking free of the memory and heartache... until the image of the balanced scale with "ideal" on one end pops into my head..
AAARGH CURSE YOU Dr. P, Just get out of my freaking head! ... it will eventually fade... but really, the timing was so freaking terrible and the termination was not handled well.
that is the question of filing a complaint
a discussion, understanding, a chance to clarify; when I am stronger and more rational, a chance to set things straight when I am no longer a child and I am willing to be vulnerable; not when I am forced to be vulnerable and naively being played. Even a chance to test my own stability and try my boundaries, a chance to put him back into a reality reference on my terms since treatment was supposed to be about me and not him. It did not end that way. It was non-negotiable coming down to what he needs versus what I need. But he was in "the position of power" so his needs win.
It did not and does not need to be that way. I did not need to be sacrificed to save him. I want a chance to rewrite the ending in a way that my brain can balance better and in a way that lines up with the idea I was sold: that they will do their best to do no harm and that treatment was supposed to be about me and helping me.
"it'll never happen" they say
"they don't care and it is really just about money".. and now liability they tell me
I know that is the sad reality but it is not where I choose to put my faith.
I'll try anyway
unfortunately I make so many mistakes. I have made so many mistakes
but that is the irony and the paradox and all those things that are funny about this anyway. I am allowed to make those mistakes and it makes perfect sense that I do. They are the ones who are supposed to be helping me work through that. That is what I am paying them for. They are the ones being paid to see and understand that, figure that out, and then help me work through those problems. I want to. I am the "perfect" client/patient in that regard, and yet they are refusing. They don't want to and are unwilling to do their professed jobs. They would rather do harm. The office manager/director or whatever she is, actually yelled at me, in front of my kids. It upset my kids more than it upset me. They needed to talk about it, they hate her and think she is a horrible person. They now hate the whole operation, even when I try to rationalize some of it. I think it is best to allow them that pain and to allow them to stand up for me and themselves by feeling angry and even saying mean things about her. I don't think it would be good for me or them to work to convince them right now about how we need to be kind and give people the benefit of the doubt.
Sometimes the only cheek left to turn is a bare-mooned ass.
After all she did this yelling after 2 weeks of ignoring a request to resolve these matters and refusing to provide me with a copy of the patients rights and responsibilities. She insisted I was asking for Dr. P to still be my therapist when I clearly stated then and in the email request I had sent that I DO NOT want that but rather want to resolve what had happened with who it had happened with and not with other therapists and doctors that don't have the full story and that continues to cost my family more money; with this complication and his statement of car accident treatment being complete it is no longer due to the car accident, even if the mood stability crazy is directly linked to it... so it will only come form our pockets. Their "solution" is keeping a cycle of harm going.
It is insanity
It is absolute insanity
I think they think I am trying or was trying to seduce him. They are wrong.
I think they think I might try to sue them
If they keep it up, they might be right, but that is not at all the route I want to go yet at some point their actions suggest there might be grounds to, because ignoring, intimidating, avoiding, and charging new charges for a treatment that so obviously went awry [and who knows when it stopped being about me] really is not okay. But still, I'd rather not go down that path and I still think this can be worked out
I have a lot of faith in humanity.
In people and foolishly maybe, but I still do, have a lot of faith in Dr. P.
I see no reason not to. If I try and fail then I will be disappointed. If I don't try at all then I agree to their crazy and I am mess for who knows how long and I will be disappointed. Either way I will be disappointed. I'd rather put my faith in people and work to be the change I wish to see, even with my very flawed me.
I'd rather try and be wrong than not try and be right.
and here is my new epiphany:
I am not the one who is insane
it is all crazy
I just have a harder time ignoring crazy and staying emotionally balanced through it
I am more sensitive to the insanities of our duel natures and that most people can just play along with
I have a harder time ignoring crazy and being okay with it
and that is it
I have solved it. hah!
go me
I was right and you were wrong, and learning to embrace insanity really is what I need to work on. but not just mine. I have to recognize and embrace others insanity as well.
It feels good to be able to move beyond me and solving me.
Now that I have solved me
I can continue to be the change I wish to see in the world
as just little old me
I am not significant and they see no value in me
But it matters very little because they are wrong.
They could learn a lot from me. I really could help them. I am the other side of their profession that they have lost touch with and I will try to help them see that
but in the end I will be okay, knowing I gave it my best shot no matter what happens.
I hope they will hear me if not for their sake for mine because I wish for my heart not to be stuck in the confusion it is in for too much longer and getting Dr. P back into a more solidly real form can fix that.... or break me completely again, but I'm willing to take that risk. Either way, I'd at least know for sure what kind of broken I am and how to move forward. Its a win win, instead of a lose lose. I am the patient who needs to have some say in the direction of her care, that is all. I am the client who actually can recover and move on, knowing we are not in this alone. Someone who has the faith to keep trying.
Please give me that chance.
so Are you crazy 2? Yes, yes you are -but I bet you already knew that
... and then I am finding that distance, breaking free of the memory and heartache... until the image of the balanced scale with "ideal" on one end pops into my head..
AAARGH CURSE YOU Dr. P, Just get out of my freaking head! ... it will eventually fade... but really, the timing was so freaking terrible and the termination was not handled well.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)