back in the saddle again...

 "You can do it but it's going to be really hard for you," says Dr. She.

"Well what the hell else am I going to do?" I say, "Everything is going to be hard for me. Any full time job is going to be hard for me. I'd think it will be easier to do something I really care about and feel like I need to do than just take some crappy easy job that will still make me just as tired." Or something to that effect.

Dr. She is telling me this because she wants me to be realistic and she does not want me going into only to be devastated due to unrealistic expectations of myself... 

I am already glad she warned me. My first pretest, you only get credit if you finish and I did not. I am too slow at reading and a lot of this is new or detailed information using semantics that I am not as familiar with. My head feels tight and tired. This is really hard. 

I know that some of it is just from being out of practice with this level of academia but some of it is new and exacerbated effects of TBI... it has never been quite like this...

This is hard. 

This is really hard...

Ethically Discarded; a Nightmare You Will Never Wake From

 I'm back in school.... coming in too hot on introductions and conversations in an attempt to make sure I have everything lined up as best I can for my student success.

... I am listening to lectures about peer reviewed articles, what they are and what that means... "the highest level of quality in science...'' blah blah or something like that and I feel a bit nauseous because these damn people who are supposed to have "the patients best interest" in mind at all times are so damn full of their own delusions of competency that they can't even see what is happening right in front of them when it is happening right in from of them... 

I guess thats what I am feeling that is making me slightly nauseated... because that is what came out. 

I might have to throw up to digest all this nonsense and I am just at the beginning...

But actually, what I think might really be happening... 

Triggering... blah. and where is the green-faced-about-to-puke emoji when you need it?

I think it is time to call it a night.

Damned manic intensified transference memories getting the best of me tonight... 

Bastard. 

 Tenacious... And I won't give up. 

This is the path that has chosen me 

Nagging Dilemmas

 I have this ever present nagging dilemma... Sometimes it causes real pain in my heart; it physically hurts. Other times it causes a pit in my stomach with an ever so slight nauseous feeling. While others times it is a knot in my throat. It can make my head feel heavy and tired. Sometimes this dilemma causes all of these.

"I need to report..."

but truth be told, I still don't want to...

and that is when I start to feel all of those feelings... as tears well up... 

Tenacious

I am rather tenacious in my faith and confidence in people. 

And I felt things. I know things. About that man that I know I need to report. 

Why do I need to report? Because he crossed boundaries, he absolutely did play with me when I was very vulnerable and trusting him to help and care for me, when I was reliant on him and paying for his services. He has lied about what happened and my condition. He missed and/or intentionally dismissed very serious conditions (mania and even TBI) to cover up his mistakes and/or deviance. He said things and there is evidence that implies that he has done things like this before. He knew too well how to protect himself from his deviance. He was suggestive in a scenario where he absolutely should not have been. He planted ideas and then he set things up to make me look bad. He was slanderous. He lied about me saying that I behaved inappropriately... and other lies... He blamed me for his boundary violations and deviance and when I was in a very child like position with him. He will go to any length, no matter the cost to me, to cover up what happened. 

All these things.. You would think it would not be hard to report him. Clearly I need too.... Cleary I have a duty to especially since that is the path they pushed me down and I was even told to... I was told to, but then repeatedly punished for doing it by himself and his institution. That is important. I was told to and then severely punished for doing so. Even though I tried to do so in a way that would not cause any harm to him or any of them. I tried to explain every time that I was just trying to figure out what was going on with my head... Only to have the manic fed fantasy reinforced with denials and dismissals of the reality of my physiology and conditions.  

SO why the hell is this so hard to report?...

...Because (and here is where I want to verbally chastise myself but I will try to refrain) I still genuinely care for the bastard. I still see the good in him and potential. Because I know that if he would be open to it he and I could help each other in profoundly powerful ways that could then be used to help other TBI survivors ...and possibly help transform how transference is understood and how countertransference is so poorly handled across the board in the US. I am the expert from the other side of the couch that validates his career and life's work AND some talents and skills he has that TBI survivors need. Skills I know he has that others (maybe even including himself) likely don't fully understand the value of, and why they are are so valuable specifically and especially for TBI survivors. 

Because I know [or believe] that working things out directly with him would be far more beneficial (to at very least me) than reporting and going through all that nonsense which may just result in creating a better liar of this man who then would know the degree to which he can get away with his games and using of patients for his own self-serving purposes. 

... there is more

More in me that is resistant to reporting... Maybe not more but rather extensions of what I have explained. Tenacious hopes and desires to reconcile and work with the man I thought he was... But with the intensity of what was, and what was not, cleared up through the simplicity of reality (specifically referring to the transference and countertransference that were manic fed) 

...Resistant to report because then all potential is surely lost forever... 

Which in reality, everyone else seems to know clearly already is...

Due to their pride, ego's, arrogance, and irrational fears?

And yet I hold out with idealistic hope... Praying for an alternative... 

When I know, considering how it was all handled and the very clear misdiagnosing and malpractice, I need to report...

to the governing bodies whom they work for and with whom they pay their licensing fees to

... that don't give a shit about no-name nobodies like me... So I guess there is that too. I have lost a lot, if not all, faith in the institutions and organizations who claim to be there to protect us and hold accountable those in power... who pay their wages and govern their boards... 

But then their is also the recognition of their accusations and the level to which they are willing to take their lies... and I know I probably need to report to protect myself from them and their fraudulent accusations against me... They threatened me with legal and criminal actions... Using false allegations and accusations and scenarios they have carefully set up to make them appear real to some degree. Traps I walked into again and again, loving them, trusting them...needing them. 

As badly has they have handled and treated me you would think reporting would be easy.  And that is the deep psychology that is most intriguing and most unsettling... 

Sigh...

and the dilemma...

the nauseating, heart crushing, weighty burden...

 the ever present nagging dilemma...

"you should have seen me before head injury," I joke as he tells me, according to his testing of me, I am still "one smart cookie" and [he thinks] I have not lost any intelligence from the TBI's. 

A broken brain that is still intelligent. A blessing and a curse. 

...And so much potential to help others, if only they would open their eyes and get over their irrational fears. 

Celebrating The Long Lonely Highway

I wrote this post while driving on Sunday 8/23:

"A lot can happen in a year." 
This is what I am thinking about as we are driving home from Saint George.
As I am contently riding with my husband, two kids, and the dog along the long lonely highway I am reminded of the drive I did alone, from Saint George to Provo for the Brain Injury Alliance Conference almost one year ago. As we pass a particular exit, I remember how I had to pull off and pull over to prevent my foot from turning into lead

in an effort to quiet the noise that was in my head.

…I remember, in desperation, knowing that I was not safe in that moment that I had to do something. But aside from pulling over, I didn’t know what to do. I turned off the car and got out of the sleek silver bullet -weapon of self-destruction- I was no longer safe enough to be operating. Tears streaming, I started walking away and into the hills of cedar and sage.

Now, as we drive pass that spot I tear up a bit as I remember this and I recognize just how far I have come. My heart swells and the tears well up higher as I remember CP’s sweet and sincere response to me as I walked through the shrubs talking with her on the phone. It was a wise decision, to phone a friend, and I feel especially blessed to have a friend like CP who knows me well enough and loves me enough to respond with so much love and such sincere concern.

She talked me down and she reigned me in. She reminded me of who I really am and that I matter. She loved me enough to know that I was in real trouble and stayed with me for as long as I needed.
Which, ironically, is always so much less time than one might expect when the love and concern is sincere.
…and I am in full tears now as I remember this and as I am so keenly aware of how far I have come and how well I am doing now.

I am so very grateful
That I am here
Alive and well
And So eternally grateful
For all the beautiful angels that have helped me get here:
CP
Dr. She
Psychiatric PA
My husband
My kids
My sister
Another sister
Physical Therapist Doug
Renee
Oriant Coach J
CS from Quora
Neighbor friend J
A few other neighbors
Neighbor friend’s mother-in-law
Bob
M
R
D
Ski friends
Little angels here and there

And I am meeting more.
…And myself. I need to credit myself as well because, as Dr. She has pointed out, I never gave up, I kept trying and working to find the right help very much on my own when I should not have been left alone with that task… and she is right, I did save my own live by doing this. I loved me enough to keep fighting for me even when I was losing me and losing with me. That is why I needed to find and recruit others, I was losing against me and I needed back up.
And that is how it works 

that is how you win in the fight against Suicide.
You keep fighting and you get back up.
That is how you beat mania and the crashes that follows.
You keep fighting and you find the right help.
And that is how you get ahead of your TBI
You keep going, you keep trying, and you find the people you need to help you figure it out

…and if the first group fails you or, even worse, betrays you,
you keep trying, you keep fighting, you keep getting back up and
You do it all again… and again 
Choosing to trust again even when you don’t
…Maybe this time trusting yourself more than those that you are entrusting yourself with, and trusting a bit more carefully, but choosing to trust none-the-less.

And I would end there but I feel it so important to point out that the first and critical ingredient needed for this recipe of success is: recognizing that suicidal thoughts are a symptom -not the problem nor the solution, but a symptom.

Once you recognize suicidal thoughts, feelings, ideations, surges, short circuits, or however it is manifesting, as a symptom, then you can start getting to the bottom of what is causing the symptom and what you can do to change the underlying problems.

Some things are worse than COVID

Last week I cried for the first time about all of the COVID 19 crap. I am so tired of all the nonsense and fear mongering. I am so annoyed with how our kids are being treated and how blown out of proportion this virus is. 

I am tired of being treated and people being treated with so much aggressive malice if you differ from the fear driven expectations of the mainstream media. I am so tired of people saying crap about "protecting their loved ones" and how you don't care about peoples lives if you try to point out that we cannot stop the spread and we need to develop herd immunity. I am so tired of the hate and fear. I am so tired of the lack of common sense and abuses being justified and excused in the name of COVID. 

It is starting to wear on me.

I am now powerless to stand up for my children rights to attend school and be treated fairly. 

I am not keeping a calm demeanor in talking to ignorant and irrational facilitators of their educational facilities. I am tired of people, "just following guidelines" and orders...

We are no different than the Nazi's... 

and I felt that when I read Viktor Frankl's book before this whole COVID nonsense. It is becoming more clear how true this is.

I don't want to go into how my daughter is being expected to quarantine and not allowed to participate in school activities because on of the girls on her Pom team tested positive for COVID even though my daughter does not actually meet the criteria for coming in contact with someone who has tested positive. I don't want to write about how the coaches that decided all of the girls should be quarantined, that had the same or greater contact with the virus, are NOT being quarantined and are, and have been, participating in and attending the school events they are not allowing our children to attend... Activities that these girls have been getting up at 5 am and working hard to prepare for through out the summer. 

I am angry. 

and it is wearing on me...

my ability to self modulate this anger when talking with these ignorant and irrational lemmings is feeling very compromised...

I know how this whole COVID crap is being handled is not good and is very unhealthy. I know this because it is starting to interfere with my stability... it is causing symptoms that I know mean something is off and unbalanced. It is even surprising me with the creeping in of suicidal feelings and responses. 

... so what do I do about that?

I'll not join the fear of the masses. Then I die for sure. In life or livelihood, very possibly both. 

Maybe we need a resistance army 

Tough putty?

 My head is feeling somewhat heavy and tired. The weight of worlds is pushing me into the ground...

"You are not making it up," says Dr. Sweet when I tell her I feel so delicately balanced.

I am so very grateful that I am doing so well and the weight I am feeling right now I am certain all would and/or are feeling. Some of it is from all the insanity surrounding this whole novel COVID 19 and trying to parent through this madness, while another portion of it is from the weight of change I feel resting on my shoulders as I try to navigate the path that has been placed in front of me. 

I am trying to take classes in psychology this up coming semester to help me down the path that can ultimately lead to the big changes I know are needed within the industry of psychology. The changes to policies and practices that are meant to address and handle situations of countertransference. 

I wish this idea had solidified itself a bit sooner since school starts in just a few days so I am now scrambling to see what I can make happen. I am feeling the heavy weight and wondering if it means I am trying to bite off too much too soon... 

And I am not sure if the sense of urgency I feel is helping me, or hindering by magnifying the weight. 

Life

Such a nonstop adventure and such a wild ride.

I am sure glad I have the one that I have

because even when things are boring

I am not bored.

And I am so very lucky to have the heavy burdens that I have. Heavy, but interesting, and not nearly as devastatingly destructive as those that I know of that far too many sweet soles have had to endure. 

Renée says, "we chose tough." But I know I am only as tough as spun glass in comparison to her and I am not so sure I chose any of this at all. ... but I suppose I choose tough on a regular basis too even if, right now, as my body is feeling the weight of my head pressing it down into the ground like it's putty, I might just choose sleep...