I am not a sex crazed artist.
That’s just not me.
He tried to turn me into his Fantasy
And I need to turn him in.
Sometimes doing the right thing is so very difficult
My sister likes that my fire has returned. I am me again she says. But I also need to be aware of how I cut people off she says... from helping me.
To protect them from me?
This is too too much
He, A monster, she says, from the beginning...
I am not what he has made me out to be
I am walled and protected in my transparency.
I am glass
these walls are made of glass
These walls are made of me
Alone
I have faced so much and felt I was supposed to
why?
the layers of the onion
when I get to the center I will find nothing
so why keep peeling back the layers
that are making me cry
so very much
Broken
again
and
again
why?
a child
Please please let me be the adult
and release me from this fantasy
talk with me
I am not so scary
unless you want me to be
these walls are made of glass
and easily broken
please
help me understand
so I don't have to turn you in
for breaking the walls you were supposed to leave.
-your demolition crew got carried away and then walked away...
no more negative stigma from the team whose job it is to fight that
Please
whatever it needs to be
....writing just for me
already over 80
Thursday, June 20, 2019
logic suggests
My logical, rational brain
Knows now, understands why people don't want to turn in what they know is not right, when they have been treated wrong.
They want to believe that they are special.
They irony, the double edged sword, maybe even the hypocrisy? is that if one does turn someone in and they really were "special," "the only one" they will forever feel that they have just betrayed that magical mystical fairytale fantasy of just "the one."
Is this the conspiracy of Hollywood, fairytales and Walt?
Is this the bigger bad I am struggling to understand?
He won't talk to me, and it is not to protect me, it is to protect himself. But his job was to help me and put my wellbeing first, he is obligated to legally and ethically, but I became his fairytale fantasy or another token in his collection of games. I am not a token and I do not belong on his proverbial shelf, waiting for his disposal, his next play.
Dr. Concussion, you too? part of the game. to tell me I'd be better served somewhere else and promise to help me find a new team only to abandon that because you can't find anyone yourself. You, the doctor in the industry can't find a fit for me? But somehow I am supposed to, when I have voiced this as my struggle and my concern, I have told you? You are the right place and the right fit from my own research. This makes no sense.
their is something pathological to this and it might not be me
Knows now, understands why people don't want to turn in what they know is not right, when they have been treated wrong.
They want to believe that they are special.
They irony, the double edged sword, maybe even the hypocrisy? is that if one does turn someone in and they really were "special," "the only one" they will forever feel that they have just betrayed that magical mystical fairytale fantasy of just "the one."
Is this the conspiracy of Hollywood, fairytales and Walt?
Is this the bigger bad I am struggling to understand?
He won't talk to me, and it is not to protect me, it is to protect himself. But his job was to help me and put my wellbeing first, he is obligated to legally and ethically, but I became his fairytale fantasy or another token in his collection of games. I am not a token and I do not belong on his proverbial shelf, waiting for his disposal, his next play.
Dr. Concussion, you too? part of the game. to tell me I'd be better served somewhere else and promise to help me find a new team only to abandon that because you can't find anyone yourself. You, the doctor in the industry can't find a fit for me? But somehow I am supposed to, when I have voiced this as my struggle and my concern, I have told you? You are the right place and the right fit from my own research. This makes no sense.
their is something pathological to this and it might not be me
Wednesday, June 19, 2019
Masks
Hoping to be noticed
Not wanting to be seen
or
Hoping to be seen
without being noticed
What kind of masks do you have in your invisible wardrobe?
Countertransference
Feeling your own pain
Is confusing your brain
Not wanting to be seen
or
Hoping to be seen
without being noticed
What kind of masks do you have in your invisible wardrobe?
Countertransference
Feeling your own pain
Is confusing your brain
Tuesday, June 18, 2019
3:23am
I am so tired
I am so tired of this.
Waking and not being able to go back to sleep because my brain is trying to solve more mysteries of the games the people of IHC Neuroscience Institute are playing with me.
They will do nothing, absolutely nothing to: resolve the issues, follow through on the treatment I have and still am paying for and/or apologize, accept any responsibility for or admit their making any mistakes (other then Office Director's abuses which include yelling at me in front of my kids). To be clear initially I was asking that the Neuropsychologist, (referred to on this blog as Dr. Perri Cheri), explain his diagnosis and prognosis, I was trying to explain that he missed something that was going on with me that I was trying to understand and figure out. I was trying to understand why I reacted the way I had, even why he dropped me when, or maybe just why, these memories (the ones they are now claiming to be "prior undisclosed" and "behavioral mental health" issues) were flooding back when they were.
I wanted to understand what was going on with my head, why and what to do about it and I knew Dr. Cheri would know better than anyone because of what we had been working on in therapy and what had transpired in regards to conversations on transference and counter-transference. I recognized he made some mistakes and I understood why I could no longer be his patient yet in trying to move and trying to understand what was going on with my brain I really needed to understand what I knew he would likely be able to explain easily
...but alas he has avoided with tenacity and affront having any conversation with me. I have asked for a conversation with he and concussion Dr. or he and anyone else present but they will not allow it. this makes no sense to me. They claim I threatened him. The only threat would have been my saying I didn't want to but if that is what I had to do I would do it and that was in response to him saying I would need to file a complaint with his superiors because he was not willing to talk to me and he would not respond to my email asking for clarification and would not in the future. It was his way of reaffirming he would no longer have anything to do with me. It was also his way of covering his legal ass.
The problem with that is, he only needed to cover his legal ass if he had done something terribly wrong or if he was planning for the future and intended to rigidly follow the 2 year no contact letter of his law.
Now at this point in conversation is when I tend to loss people because either a. I am struggling to articulate to my level of intelligence (it's definitely one of the more frustrating TBI long term side-effects)...
Or b. I’m confused myself and this situation is so very complex...
I am so tired of this.
Waking and not being able to go back to sleep because my brain is trying to solve more mysteries of the games the people of IHC Neuroscience Institute are playing with me.
They will do nothing, absolutely nothing to: resolve the issues, follow through on the treatment I have and still am paying for and/or apologize, accept any responsibility for or admit their making any mistakes (other then Office Director's abuses which include yelling at me in front of my kids). To be clear initially I was asking that the Neuropsychologist, (referred to on this blog as Dr. Perri Cheri), explain his diagnosis and prognosis, I was trying to explain that he missed something that was going on with me that I was trying to understand and figure out. I was trying to understand why I reacted the way I had, even why he dropped me when, or maybe just why, these memories (the ones they are now claiming to be "prior undisclosed" and "behavioral mental health" issues) were flooding back when they were.
I wanted to understand what was going on with my head, why and what to do about it and I knew Dr. Cheri would know better than anyone because of what we had been working on in therapy and what had transpired in regards to conversations on transference and counter-transference. I recognized he made some mistakes and I understood why I could no longer be his patient yet in trying to move and trying to understand what was going on with my brain I really needed to understand what I knew he would likely be able to explain easily
...but alas he has avoided with tenacity and affront having any conversation with me. I have asked for a conversation with he and concussion Dr. or he and anyone else present but they will not allow it. this makes no sense to me. They claim I threatened him. The only threat would have been my saying I didn't want to but if that is what I had to do I would do it and that was in response to him saying I would need to file a complaint with his superiors because he was not willing to talk to me and he would not respond to my email asking for clarification and would not in the future. It was his way of reaffirming he would no longer have anything to do with me. It was also his way of covering his legal ass.
The problem with that is, he only needed to cover his legal ass if he had done something terribly wrong or if he was planning for the future and intended to rigidly follow the 2 year no contact letter of his law.
Now at this point in conversation is when I tend to loss people because either a. I am struggling to articulate to my level of intelligence (it's definitely one of the more frustrating TBI long term side-effects)...
Or b. I’m confused myself and this situation is so very complex...
Monday, June 17, 2019
Please release me from your fantasy
"(b) Psychologists do not engage in sexual intimacies with former clients/patients even after a two-year interval except in the most unusual circumstances. Psychologists who engage in such activity after the two years following cessation or termination of therapy and of having no sexual contact with the former client/patient bear the burden of demonstrating that there has been no exploitation, in light of all relevant factors, including (1) the amount of time that has passed since therapy terminated; (2) the nature, duration, and intensity of the therapy; (3) the circumstances of termination; (4) the client's/patient's personal history; (5) the client's/patient's current mental status; (6) the likelihood of adverse impact on the client/patient; and (7) any statements or actions made by the therapist during the course of therapy suggesting or inviting the possibility of a posttermination sexual or romantic relationship with the client/patient."
https://www.apa.org/ethics/code/
Please, Dear Dr. Cheri, release me from your fantasy. Are you fighting for me now or were you grooming and now covering? Please stop the game. I cannot be what you want me to be or you very much misunderstood me. It was the dream I was referring to, not any rules you have to live by.
Your lack of apology, no accountability, and no contact keeps my tired broken brain tied to this lie. Deep down in your psychological psyche are you still holding onto me?
Please release me.
-e
Embracing my Perfectly Imperfect
There is a part of this that has stung a bit lately. It is that part that I have avoided writing too much about. I wish to write about all the good things I have learned and my take aways. The positive ways dear He helped me change. I want to write about these things because I want to keep, maintain and grow the new me I felt I was becoming when I was with him.
I keep finding there is more. I keep learning more about me, my patterns and just how engrained they really are and yet also how much they are changing and how much stronger I am. Just recognizing this so quickly this time shows significant progress and knowing, being willing and able to face it so quickly, that is also progress. Huge progress.
Which also makes me happy
...but oh dang it. I only slept about three hours last night and currently have too much energy to sleep and my mind is wishing to process and write worlds worth of information rather quickly...
so I suppose this could be the calm before the storm... am I on the verge of another manic mindset?
Husband is concerned about that AND he actually vocalized it (more huge progress). "I can't really make that happen" I say, but "can I prevent it?" we both ask.
Maybe.
Probably.
I prevented a complete breakdown on the last. This time maybe I can keep myself at a safer distance knowing that my body and brain are repeating the pattern.
So is it safe to tackle the subject of my dear Dr. Perri Cheri and how he helped me?
I think so and for fun's sake, here is how he got his name, I may have shared this already but just in case I didn't here you go:
Perri- this song, I used in attempt to explain my transference: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FvbErM6ZTBA
Cheri- this song, because it so comically fits the scenario of transference-countertransference and because he is from the same place as the artists of the song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A2CiJ5U6x24 (and because I shared another clip from another one of their songs with him in my attempt to help him see that I was not completely understanding what he was saying and I felt that issue might be going both ways. It was.)
I keep finding there is more. I keep learning more about me, my patterns and just how engrained they really are and yet also how much they are changing and how much stronger I am. Just recognizing this so quickly this time shows significant progress and knowing, being willing and able to face it so quickly, that is also progress. Huge progress.
Which also makes me happy
...but oh dang it. I only slept about three hours last night and currently have too much energy to sleep and my mind is wishing to process and write worlds worth of information rather quickly...
so I suppose this could be the calm before the storm... am I on the verge of another manic mindset?
Husband is concerned about that AND he actually vocalized it (more huge progress). "I can't really make that happen" I say, but "can I prevent it?" we both ask.
Maybe.
Probably.
I prevented a complete breakdown on the last. This time maybe I can keep myself at a safer distance knowing that my body and brain are repeating the pattern.
So is it safe to tackle the subject of my dear Dr. Perri Cheri and how he helped me?
I think so and for fun's sake, here is how he got his name, I may have shared this already but just in case I didn't here you go:
Perri- this song, I used in attempt to explain my transference: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FvbErM6ZTBA
Cheri- this song, because it so comically fits the scenario of transference-countertransference and because he is from the same place as the artists of the song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A2CiJ5U6x24 (and because I shared another clip from another one of their songs with him in my attempt to help him see that I was not completely understanding what he was saying and I felt that issue might be going both ways. It was.)
In my Head
I am having such a hard time sleeping again. Tonight I cannot even get to sleep. There is so much going on in my head again.
Neuroscience Institute Facility Director, who I'd asked not be allowed to interact with patients, has sent me a letter terminating me from any of the doctors or providers there. Her reason: they cannot accommodate my behavioral health needs. What is that supposed to mean? what and why?
It feels like she is trying to turn me into a behavioral problem. It feels like gaslighting. I do not know who is behind it.
I think it may just be her but she, or someone, most certainly has been playing games with me and very likely my confidentiality rights were breached since the office staff started treating me very strange. I even had to check in at a different desk on my final appointment. They personally called me the day before to make sure I knew to check in at this other desk. Too bad their cover was blown [in that they were not doing this for everyone] when the new lady who: first; left me waiting by the "wait here" sign for like 10 minutes while she finished with whatever it was she was doing for the previous patient, which was not checking in, and second; she didn't recognize me personally and almost accidentally sent me to their actual check in desk but was quickly stopped by the girl I recognized from previous visits with a "wait! who are you here to see?" When I told here who, she said, "oh you check in over here," cutting new lady off when she started with the, "I thought check in..." response. When she asked my name I replied, "I bet you can guess" to which she nice-save-style stated, "uh, only because there isn't anyone else checking in right now." If she had been just a bit confused by my comment the facade would have been more believable.
Over the years, being the odd man out often, comfortable with the boys and not so much with the girls, and a misfit, I have developed that keen sense of knowing when people have been talking about someone behind their back, and of knowing when I am the hot topic for gossip.
And my checkin nurse, Dr. Concussion's assistant, who used to be friendly and fun to talk to, has zero to say to me, is cold and unfriendly.
I've been the topic of conversation no doubt, I'd put $ on it.
It's not right. And Dr. Concussion, not even providing a name or recommendation on a facility, when she assured me she would help me find a new team... heartbreaking dishonesty.
It is so hard to find, as she herself put it, "the right fit" and now I am going in blind. I'm in the same boat, worse in some ways, now as I was when I was looking for them in the first place. I feel like I'm throwing money at doctors that don't know what they are doing. They will "help you" and treat you as long as it is convenient for them, as long as you are easy to treat and diagnose but when you are a challenge, they say, "too bad, we are now taking back our diagnosis, prognosis and treatment plan, there's the door, here's a band aid to cover the gushing wound from opening you up, because we are not going to finish with the procedures we started."
If my ankle surgeon were following their example, once he saw the panic in my eyes just before going under, he would have thought about wheeling me out. When he cut in and realized it was worse than he was expecting he would have stopped there, wheeled me out, then had his staff send me on my way, claiming that not only had I not been asleep but that he hadn't really even cut me open, I must have been making that up and they support it when he says he is done with treating a patient. "Further more" they would say "when he actually got to look inside he found that you had not disclosed the extent of your injury so, too bad, the facility will not treat you and we cannot be held accountable for any of it. Goodbye and good luck finding a new surgeon; check with your insurance."
That is what the equivalent would look like if the surgeon did the same. If it doesn't make sense or sounds crazy, you are right. IT IS CRAZY. Not me, the institution. This makes no sense for so many reasons but they know they can get away with it.
That is on my mind. keeping me up.
And it is even strange to me how it is keeping me up. I don't feel the heavy burden feelings that used to be so familiar, I am not manic, (hopefully it stays that way, hopefully lack of sleep won't be a trigger) and I don't feel anxious, overly worried or even all that angry. I don't understand very well what I am feeling now. I feel rather calm and determined. Yet tears come so frequently and raw emotions are easily exposed. Determined yet calm about it and not entirely sure where and why that determination lies or what direction it needs to be directed in.
I like work and that is good. I have been so much better at compartmentalizing and I like the focus I can put there but when I am home I mostly put it away, and this is a good change for me and my family.
... and so many other things keeping me up. like the blog post I started about lovely Janice, the post that I need to finish because it turns out, she touched on some very sensitive area's and basically summarized all I need to still face.
which brings me to the last thing I wish to mention that is keeping me up, and that is dear Perri. I still am back and forth on whether I should use his name or not, so it has come out now and again. Here it just feels better to call him dear Perri.
She and wise trusted friend from winter work (the ski resort) both pointed out some of the good he has done for me. (Interesting this happened 2 days in a row and timed now.) They both are attempting to help me find peace, I think. I actually do have peace already though and I even recognize that dear Perri has played a part in that.
So in my head are thoughts again of how do I protect him while helping myself? Standing up for myself? Do I need to stand up for myself?
Can I finally let it go? let it die?
Problems with that are: He gifted himself to my heart "you can keep me in your heart" so the psychology of undoing that is tricky... I have reclaimed my heart but separating him out does not seem wise or practical.
So how do I psychologically let it die without killing my heart? He has found a safe home there. In my head is probably not so safe for him, but I still like him there too. He is still my drug of choice in many ways. I enjoy the story. I love his face, his glasses that make his eyes seem just a little smaller than they really are. I love his creases and dimples when he smiles and I love how his eyes would light up when I saw him. I also loved that occasionally I could sense the most subtle or at least remarkably controlled frustrations with me. I love that he was cryptic at times. I love how he could find my words for me and with little effort he could land on what I was trying to express. Or at least seemed to. I loved how knowledgable he was. I loved his soft soothing voice. I love how he wore his shirts; always a long sleeve button up, with the sleeves folded to just below his elbows. I think it is funny that he rubbed his right eye with his right middle finger. I think it is funny that he said, with a hint of surprise, "you really have been listening to me." I think it is funny that I confused him so much. I loved "Unfortunately there is still a human element to all of this." He was breaking my heart and yet I savor it. I loved how he'd talk about his kids. And, even if at times I wish he were, I love that he is not reading this, he has let me burn out. I love that he collects rocks and taught me about tokens (or was it totems). I love how he taught me so much in such a short amount of time. I love that he screwed up so bad with me, and didn't know how to fix it. Maybe I don't love that one, but I kind of do because I had him so high on a pedestal that it speaks loudly of just how complex I really am. It lets me know what I previously had not; I have been doing well all these years attempting to navigate some very difficult stuff with not much support. If I could screw a neuropsychologist up that bad without even trying; if he could miss that I was manic and straddling both worlds, I must be something special. It also teaches me that I really do need help if I'd like to be part of a team.
Sadly, though,
and this is where my love starts to fade
the problem of how this all has been handled reaffirms those "you aren't good enough for a team" messages. They are affirmations I have accepted time and time again "you don't fit in and you don't belong" as I have been abandoned and I abandon.
Janice, who has worked with my kind (TBI) knew it all too well. She was telling me how I was before I told her. When I told her where my brain had bled when I was 12 she knew a lot about what my teens years would have looked like and she explained how I can see the picture of the words or what I am trying to say, but I'd have trouble verbally recalling the words I needed. She understood why I felt frustration with not being able to articulate to my level of intelligence. She did not find this comment offensive or arrogant. (I think some people might simply because the comment itself is over their head or outside of their understanding) Janice worded for me, before I even attempted to explain that in my transference situation, since I was unable to and not allowed to work through my transference, dear Perri rejecting me became me rejecting me.
complex. but someone, seasoned and experienced, understood.
,,,and now I am tired. I want to sleep. My head, I hope, has enough out, that I might be able to.
I'll look to edit later.
Neuroscience Institute Facility Director, who I'd asked not be allowed to interact with patients, has sent me a letter terminating me from any of the doctors or providers there. Her reason: they cannot accommodate my behavioral health needs. What is that supposed to mean? what and why?
It feels like she is trying to turn me into a behavioral problem. It feels like gaslighting. I do not know who is behind it.
I think it may just be her but she, or someone, most certainly has been playing games with me and very likely my confidentiality rights were breached since the office staff started treating me very strange. I even had to check in at a different desk on my final appointment. They personally called me the day before to make sure I knew to check in at this other desk. Too bad their cover was blown [in that they were not doing this for everyone] when the new lady who: first; left me waiting by the "wait here" sign for like 10 minutes while she finished with whatever it was she was doing for the previous patient, which was not checking in, and second; she didn't recognize me personally and almost accidentally sent me to their actual check in desk but was quickly stopped by the girl I recognized from previous visits with a "wait! who are you here to see?" When I told here who, she said, "oh you check in over here," cutting new lady off when she started with the, "I thought check in..." response. When she asked my name I replied, "I bet you can guess" to which she nice-save-style stated, "uh, only because there isn't anyone else checking in right now." If she had been just a bit confused by my comment the facade would have been more believable.
Over the years, being the odd man out often, comfortable with the boys and not so much with the girls, and a misfit, I have developed that keen sense of knowing when people have been talking about someone behind their back, and of knowing when I am the hot topic for gossip.
And my checkin nurse, Dr. Concussion's assistant, who used to be friendly and fun to talk to, has zero to say to me, is cold and unfriendly.
I've been the topic of conversation no doubt, I'd put $ on it.
It's not right. And Dr. Concussion, not even providing a name or recommendation on a facility, when she assured me she would help me find a new team... heartbreaking dishonesty.
It is so hard to find, as she herself put it, "the right fit" and now I am going in blind. I'm in the same boat, worse in some ways, now as I was when I was looking for them in the first place. I feel like I'm throwing money at doctors that don't know what they are doing. They will "help you" and treat you as long as it is convenient for them, as long as you are easy to treat and diagnose but when you are a challenge, they say, "too bad, we are now taking back our diagnosis, prognosis and treatment plan, there's the door, here's a band aid to cover the gushing wound from opening you up, because we are not going to finish with the procedures we started."
If my ankle surgeon were following their example, once he saw the panic in my eyes just before going under, he would have thought about wheeling me out. When he cut in and realized it was worse than he was expecting he would have stopped there, wheeled me out, then had his staff send me on my way, claiming that not only had I not been asleep but that he hadn't really even cut me open, I must have been making that up and they support it when he says he is done with treating a patient. "Further more" they would say "when he actually got to look inside he found that you had not disclosed the extent of your injury so, too bad, the facility will not treat you and we cannot be held accountable for any of it. Goodbye and good luck finding a new surgeon; check with your insurance."
That is what the equivalent would look like if the surgeon did the same. If it doesn't make sense or sounds crazy, you are right. IT IS CRAZY. Not me, the institution. This makes no sense for so many reasons but they know they can get away with it.
That is on my mind. keeping me up.
And it is even strange to me how it is keeping me up. I don't feel the heavy burden feelings that used to be so familiar, I am not manic, (hopefully it stays that way, hopefully lack of sleep won't be a trigger) and I don't feel anxious, overly worried or even all that angry. I don't understand very well what I am feeling now. I feel rather calm and determined. Yet tears come so frequently and raw emotions are easily exposed. Determined yet calm about it and not entirely sure where and why that determination lies or what direction it needs to be directed in.
I like work and that is good. I have been so much better at compartmentalizing and I like the focus I can put there but when I am home I mostly put it away, and this is a good change for me and my family.
... and so many other things keeping me up. like the blog post I started about lovely Janice, the post that I need to finish because it turns out, she touched on some very sensitive area's and basically summarized all I need to still face.
which brings me to the last thing I wish to mention that is keeping me up, and that is dear Perri. I still am back and forth on whether I should use his name or not, so it has come out now and again. Here it just feels better to call him dear Perri.
She and wise trusted friend from winter work (the ski resort) both pointed out some of the good he has done for me. (Interesting this happened 2 days in a row and timed now.) They both are attempting to help me find peace, I think. I actually do have peace already though and I even recognize that dear Perri has played a part in that.
So in my head are thoughts again of how do I protect him while helping myself? Standing up for myself? Do I need to stand up for myself?
Can I finally let it go? let it die?
Problems with that are: He gifted himself to my heart "you can keep me in your heart" so the psychology of undoing that is tricky... I have reclaimed my heart but separating him out does not seem wise or practical.
So how do I psychologically let it die without killing my heart? He has found a safe home there. In my head is probably not so safe for him, but I still like him there too. He is still my drug of choice in many ways. I enjoy the story. I love his face, his glasses that make his eyes seem just a little smaller than they really are. I love his creases and dimples when he smiles and I love how his eyes would light up when I saw him. I also loved that occasionally I could sense the most subtle or at least remarkably controlled frustrations with me. I love that he was cryptic at times. I love how he could find my words for me and with little effort he could land on what I was trying to express. Or at least seemed to. I loved how knowledgable he was. I loved his soft soothing voice. I love how he wore his shirts; always a long sleeve button up, with the sleeves folded to just below his elbows. I think it is funny that he rubbed his right eye with his right middle finger. I think it is funny that he said, with a hint of surprise, "you really have been listening to me." I think it is funny that I confused him so much. I loved "Unfortunately there is still a human element to all of this." He was breaking my heart and yet I savor it. I loved how he'd talk about his kids. And, even if at times I wish he were, I love that he is not reading this, he has let me burn out. I love that he collects rocks and taught me about tokens (or was it totems). I love how he taught me so much in such a short amount of time. I love that he screwed up so bad with me, and didn't know how to fix it. Maybe I don't love that one, but I kind of do because I had him so high on a pedestal that it speaks loudly of just how complex I really am. It lets me know what I previously had not; I have been doing well all these years attempting to navigate some very difficult stuff with not much support. If I could screw a neuropsychologist up that bad without even trying; if he could miss that I was manic and straddling both worlds, I must be something special. It also teaches me that I really do need help if I'd like to be part of a team.
Sadly, though,
and this is where my love starts to fade
the problem of how this all has been handled reaffirms those "you aren't good enough for a team" messages. They are affirmations I have accepted time and time again "you don't fit in and you don't belong" as I have been abandoned and I abandon.
Janice, who has worked with my kind (TBI) knew it all too well. She was telling me how I was before I told her. When I told her where my brain had bled when I was 12 she knew a lot about what my teens years would have looked like and she explained how I can see the picture of the words or what I am trying to say, but I'd have trouble verbally recalling the words I needed. She understood why I felt frustration with not being able to articulate to my level of intelligence. She did not find this comment offensive or arrogant. (I think some people might simply because the comment itself is over their head or outside of their understanding) Janice worded for me, before I even attempted to explain that in my transference situation, since I was unable to and not allowed to work through my transference, dear Perri rejecting me became me rejecting me.
complex. but someone, seasoned and experienced, understood.
,,,and now I am tired. I want to sleep. My head, I hope, has enough out, that I might be able to.
I'll look to edit later.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)