3rd therapy appointment. It was alright. It felt pretty unproductive to be honest. I didn’t know where to start, continue, or end. I blabbed uncomfortably about my family, my dad, my cousin….etc. I did, however, come to the realization that I am VERY detached from not only my past trauma, but reality in general. I’m apprehensive about therapy because I’m terrified of digging into myself and restoring those memories.
Before this, we had gone to the laundromat. I wasn’t totally there, either. I constantly feel that my wherewithal is a red balloon and I am holding on to the string. The balloon is tugging away from my grasp in every which way, and I have to keep re-tying the ribbon to my wrist.
Laundry, appointment, then we went to the mental hospital where I was enrolled in the out patient program(s). I have yet to find a new psychiatrist and I have about 3 days left on my medication. I’m getting a little anxious about the medication aspect….
But hey!!!!! Guess what!!!!! I got a new car!!!!!! YESSSSS!!!! This is my first car ever and I’m so damn excited. So, my mood has been outstanding considering the recent changes and such. Yes yes yes. Adulthood.
I’m bracing myself for this week. I have some bills I need to pay, I need a refill on my lithium badly and my seroquel, and I need to start learning to not freak out whenever I sleep in my bed alone. Baby steps. Growing pains. It’s going to be okay.
I start reading the book, The Magic Daughter, and I can already relate to her. She says that her selves were there to protect her, and from them she learned great lessons and talents. It’s very interesting.
That’s all I could tell my therapist today. “It’s interesting.” This, of course, is in regards to my dissociation in general. I don’t how to feel about it. I don’t know how to personally react to the fact that Goldie came out to her and her roommates. I really don’t. I told my therapist that I almost feel guilty, embarrassed, because I don’t want other people to view me as weak. I don’t want my girlfriend to see Goldie and think that I was too weak that I couldn’t even handle being in the moment.
I guess I’m still trying to wrap my head around all of this, blah, blah, blah. I’m feeling introverted. Even though I have been able to keep it together relatively well, I still feel something inside of me cracking. I feel fragile, vulnerable, terrified, and fragmented. I don’t know what to expect from meeting my child self, repairing the hurt and heartbreak…