I finally see a psychiatrist tonight after work. I’ll get my refill on my meds tonight, and all will be well.
It must be the change plus medication that is throwing me off so much; I don’t feel like I’m here. I feel like a totally different person most of the time. It’s affecting her, too. I’m distant. I’m even distant with myself, distant with Allie. She tries to get me to talk to her about what’s going on through my head. I almost feel as if I don’t have the energy to confront the recent shift(s) in my life. I’d rather crawl into my shell and introvert. Although, I know that’s not healthy.
Last night, my cousin and I had a rather long conversation- a much needed conversation. He had seen my book on the dining room table, The Magic Daughter: A memoir about living with multiple personalities. He was really curious about that specifically. He asked a lot of questions regarding my mental health in general. I told him about the Schizoaffective Disorder, my dissociation, my depression, etc. He understood. I don’t think he quite “agrees” with me taking medication, but I explained to him that I feel much better now, I feel leveled out.
We also discussed the family, trauma in the family, etc. IT was healing for both of us to talk about those issues. As a conclusion, he let me know that he has unconditional love for me and hopes that we have many more conversations like those, that we can learn from each other while living together, and become closer as family.
My final thought for my post: My cousin asked me last night, “What’s your happy thought?” He, of course, was referencing one of our most sacred childhood movies, Peter Pan. No one had ever asked me this. I sat there in reflective silence for a minute or so. He said, “I ask a lot of people this. Most of the time, I get a superficial answer like ‘weed.’ I find that the ones that take a little bit longer to think are the ones that have something very lovely to say.”
I cleared my throat and said, “Me. My resilience. The fighter in me is my happy place because I know that no matter what happens, no matter what tragedy or obstacle comes my way, I will always, always flourish and prosper.” He looked at me, raised his wine glass, and with tears of humanity in both of our eyes, we smiled.
I can honestly say that despite having been going to therapy, our raw and human conversation last night felt like the very first step to my recovery of my soul. That is a beautiful thing. Thank God for my family.