tomorrow

I’m nervous.

Funny that.

Anticipation.

He’s a bitch.


kpm ©


 

1 year on …

It definitely doesn’t feel like a year since starting this particular ‘chapter’ of my awesome existence …. feels like yesterday when i was whining about not being able to get to the front gate let alone the shop without freaking out and having a meltdown of seismic proportions … ahhh the good old days.

Now, its the front seat of the car all the way to town…and back {hollah!} … and whining is usually only limited to something truly awful … like hanging out with the partner for faaarrrr to long … or having a particularly shit EMDR session … but even then … i’ve learned enough to know that if its been a rough EMDR, give it a couple weeks and there will be some kind of mindless improvement … weird, but true.

I’m still battling … and i haven’t completed figured out my reconciliation with this whole ptsd bullshit … but I am thoroughly pleased with myself (today) … and my progress (today) … and I can say that I look forward to seeing whats going to happen next ;)


kpm ©


 

yesterdays stuff: progress

The shrinks appointments aren’t as frequent as last year…think that’s called progress ;)

But we kicked off the sesh with the usual catch up, and I got to tell her I’ve dropped the ‘walking stick’; dropped the benzos; and dropped taking the pillow and blanky everywhere with me :) … it’s all progress…

And that I’d done the front seat of the car and 4 shops in the neighboring town. She was pretty pleased. She can tick the boxes for ACC so they don’t cut my shit off just yet.

We also got into the, how to maintain myself during and after the dreaded panic attacks…cos they still happen, and can be hugely debilitating. While I’m not as freaked for as long and try hard to not let them put me off going places I want too…they are fucking horrible as they happen.

So we did the old EMDR on my waiting room ordeal and figured out that that same feeling translates to every other thing that sets off a panic attack. I’ve always known this really, it’s just hard to put it into words / frame it up.

When I feel trapped…which can be waiting; … I feel vulnerable … I start to feel anxious … the longer it takes to get a grip on it … the more heightened I feel … and then its over grover. I go dizzy, shaky, blurry … I can tell myself that I am alright; safe; not vulnerable etc. … but my body doesn’t give a shit about what I’m telling it … it wants OUT! Out, Out, Out … and that out feeling translates into a panic attack of seismic proportions.

The EMDR seemed to help a little a bit… but I won’t really know until I’m in that situation again…which in itself is fucked … it’s why I have avoided all situations that have produced this type of reaction … seemed pretty wise to me!

But, yes, it got so debilitating that I couldn’t go anywhere, at all. Not even to the god dam letterbox … and that is even more fucking annoying than the panic attack itself.

I get why I do this … why my body does this. But I am over it … I want to be able to do what I want to do when I want to do it. I’ve become trapped by the trapped feeling. Hate that shit…

Anyway…progress. Here’s to it!!!!!


kpm ©


 

 

completed

The partner left yesterday afternoon and went in for the removal of the ‘unwanted mass’ this afternoon. According to ‘Libby’ of Ward 6, the partner is nauseous and in pain, but the surgery itself, was reasonably quick and straight forward; thanks for that Libby.

It’s been a head fucking day, but I remained positive and active…to remain positive and active pfft.

It’s a daunting thought thinking the person you’ve grown to love and hate at the same time, might not be alright…might not be around to argue with; or take the piss out of; to laugh with; to eat with;…I think that’s what ‘attachment’ is all about???? Not one of my stronger points…

I actually thought I’d be crawling the walls more than I was…possibly all the training from moving out of one place into another; lumps in the breasts; hair falling out, you know, just all that run of the mill shit…this time though, I just kind of tried to go with the flow…seemed to work. I might try more in future.

Oooohhh

And then the shrink came this afternoon, for our final session of the year – Yah … not.

But

I made a breakthrough…of sorts.

It was a really uncomfortable EMDR session…physically and mentally. I went dizzy and then numb; butterflies and headaches; sore throat and tired. And finally…bucket loads of tears that freakishly came out of nowhere…well, not out of nowhere; the bastards came from my eyes…you know what I mean…anyway…

My breakthrough came as we were doing the, ‘I am safe now’ routine…the crux of the whole fucking thing…and the panic attacks and anxiety and PTSD bullshit. The shrink asked me on the scale of 1-7; 7 being very true, how much do I believe that ‘I am safe now’ statement. I went from 6, to 6 1/2, then 6 3/4…just couldn’t quite hit the 7.

Then the tears came…

When I realised that ‘I am big now’…

I might not ever completely believe that I am 100% safe anywhere, with anyone…but ‘I am big now’, and I can deal with it!

It’s been a long day.

And I’m tired…good…sore…and tired.


kpm ©


 

the dreaded emdr…done

I had the session of EMDR yesterday, which I must say, I prepared pretty well for. It’s taken all day today though, to recover from my well-prepared-ness!

So, the shrink moves offices every week, and this week we were in a ‘child friendly’ zone; which I thought was pretty spooky actually. Lots of books and kids toys and affirmation cards…you know, “I am special”, “I am loved”, “I am safe”, type things. Gave me chills lol.

Anyway, I breathed through the first and worst…focusing on the memory…rating it from 1 to 10 on the disturbance scale…then we were off with the finger waving thing…which is rather disorientating and hard to focus on…but I breathed, and breathed.

This time, my head hurt like fuckery…the front and sides and after a couple rounds, the back of my head. Then my face, sinuses to be more specific; then my shoulder blades. Throughout the whole thing too, I had this horrible butterflies feeling throughout my tummy and chest. I didn’t like that. After about 20 minutes, I went numb and really, really tired.

I don’t really get it all…in theory I sort of get it…we’re replicating sleep, dreaming and the processing that happens. I get too, that the body holds onto memory, or trauma, even long after the event has been and gone. But this…the finger waving, non talking, headachy shit that happens…I don’t really get it.

What I do know though, is that because I don’t get it, it’ll probably work. I have this fucked up sense of trying to make sense out of everything I come across. And I’ve probably worked myself into this state of having to ‘get it’ before I participate in it, so much so, that I don’t participate in anything. And I’ve gotten so bundled up with anxiety and fear that I’ve gotten to the point where I’ll try virtually anything just to get some relief…well I’m sure there’s some shit I wouldn’t try…

But, when we finished this session I felt like I’d been run over by a train. And we haven’t finished processing this one completely apparently. The shrinks gonna come out to me next week…It’s gonna be a busy week.

I went and hung out with my youngest daughter and moko after the shrink …that was cool. They’re both beautiful for the wairua (spirit). I tried to have a nap but that didn’t work…moko wanted to ‘chat’ ;).

So, another sesh down. ..and I survived 😉


kpm ©


 

SaveSave

emdr eureka

Well, I’ve been a bit sceptical of the whole EMDR thing, but I’m pretty much down for giving anything a try…which I’ve been doing.

The shrink reckons that the ‘changes’ will be subtle and barely noticed at first…’Oh okay’…is what I’m thinking…

But I roll with it….because…well because what other fucking options do I have?

Now I’m usually pretty aware of the cognitive changes that I have…and aware when my physical being is slightly ‘tweaked out’…and I know when there’s been a ‘shift’ in my spirit or soul…we say ‘wairua’.

I have always had difficulty ‘feeling’ any of these states of changes…but I’ve always been mentally aware of them. Disassociation I guess, is what has inhibited those ‘awareness-es’ in their entirety. However, a wise lady once told me that ‘we’…our holistic beings…deal with certain things, as they should be dealt with…in their own time. That there is no right or wrong as such…there is no stuck or stopped unless we chose that.

So any and all progress that my being has made…is all in its good time I spose.

Anyway…after that long thought…

I woke up this morning thinking I was tired…because I’m always tired; well to varying degrees anyway. I stumbled off to make coffee and do the usual blah de blah routine.

A couple hours later…eureka!

I realised with a quick finger count/calculation…that I had slept 6 hours! Yes that’s right – 6 god dam hours!

I haven’t really been paying attention…I was trying trying trying to cut down on the Zopiclone…as I have been doing for aaagggeees…and high fived myself at making it to 1/4 zoppy. But then kinda funked out when I couldn’t get below that.

Then somewhere in the last few weeks I decided to ‘give up’ and just roll with it, and I haven’t been to bed before 2am most nights.

BUT…I hadn’t been counting the hours that I actually slept. SO…for the last week or two, while I’ve been going to bed at 2 am ish…I’ve also been sleeping 6 solid hours before waking up!!! I don’t think I’ve ever consistently slept that long before, ever…and on only 1/4 zoppy.

So…I think it’s slowly working. I still don’t think its all on the EMDR, but I do think it’s collaboratively working.

I think I can live with 6 hours sleep a night!

Now to eliminate the zoppy altogether!! Ahhhh…now that makes me nervous…but pretty sure this last bit is just mind over matter…

Rock on with my bad self ;)


kpm ©


 

emdr follow up and exposure therapy

We were booked in for another round of good old emdr today. It was supposed to be the 2nd half of the last session; as that one was painful and apparently not quite ‘complete’.

I prepped myself this time!

And what do you know…we didn’t do it! Instead the shrink decided to try a bit of exposure therapy instead. Yah.

So the reasoning for not completing the emdr was the state my mind is in at the moment. And here I was thinking I was not in a too shabby state!

Second reason was this…

Because of the particular memory, and what we have been ‘tackling’ as the crux of it – lack of control…we did a little re hash and came up with ‘another’, possibly more accurate, crux.

We’d been looking at this as me being out of control of the situation. The shrink had said previously that to get a handle on being in control, I needed to focus on what I could, or could have controlled. Me.

Now I had beef with that…because how much control does a 3-year-old have, really? And do they even understand the entire concept of control or controlling themselves. I don’t think so.

I get that in certain situations, I only have control of me; my attitude, perception etc of what is going on around me or to me. But pretending I was in some way ‘in control’ of me or the situation, is shit, to say the least.

So, new theory…its not so much about being in control…its more about what the lack of control, or how the lack of control was perceived…then…and how it reflects or is interpreted…now.

When I am in a situation that makes me feel trapped, I start to panic. As we unpacked that thought process, we came upon the awesome realisation that ‘being trapped’, or having the perception of being trapped, somehow makes me feel like I am a sitting target…vulnerable.

And its the vulnerability that scares the living shit out of me. That’s what sets me into a panic. And all I want to do…all I say to myself…is…I want to get out!

Out…is anywhere but here and now in whatever situation is giving me discomfort.

It can be at the traffic lights…the front seat of the car…the toilet…new surroundings…a surprise…

Anything that makes me feel like I don’t have an option…or a have to wait for something.

I feel like a sitting duck!

And it is THAT feeling that we will tackle with exuberant enthusiasm, next time!

Oh great.

But the exposure therapy…was good.

I drove the car…with the shrink in the front seat lol. Breathing and breathing. I did good :), and she did more breathing than me I think.


kpm©


 

emdr again.

I finally did the next session of the (in)famous emdr, after having the last 2 sessions postponed…due to…me.

And while I wasn’t too apprehensive…I should of been. The first couple seemed sort of ho-hum…tiring…but…yeah, ho-hum. And it wasn’t till a couple of weeks later that I actually noticed a change in my ‘thinking’ or feeling. But each session was not particularly painful…possibly due to the wonderful art of dissociation.

But this time…it hurt like a bitch.

I hadn’t really prepared for tears and hurt and shit. Just the waving of the finger. I should’ve prepared for tears and hurt and shit. I guess I’ll be better prepped next round.

The memory tackled involved the pedo cunt so I’m guessing that’s probably why it was a tad more painful. Genius!

This time round, I did the finger following sweet, apparently (yah, super successful me blah). But this time it felt like…numb…sweet…breathing increase…panic…numb…tired…panic…tears…I want to run away…more panic…numb…more tears…headache…chest sore…throat stuck…

all in a matter of moments!

It was freaky and dare I say it again…freaking tiring. Emotional…grrr don’t like emotions.

Anyway, we got back to the ‘happy place’ and then the shrink asks me if I feel alright…ah, no. So she does a bit more waving of the finger and gets me down to a 3 – on the scale of 1 to 10, 1 being awesome – 10 being shit. Then informs me that this stuff isn’t completely resolved…processed…whatever…and we’ll have to pick it up again next session.

Oh Yippie. Can’t wait…NOT.

But next time, that’s right, I’m prepping for it…for tears and hurt and all that shit!


kpm ©


 

first session & i’ve got issues with it

did my first session of EMDR on Saturday. good old shrink comes to me instead of me going to her…its not worth the stress, for me…don’t know about her though…oh well, she gets paid well.

EMDR – Eye Movement Desensitisation Reprocessing, seems to be the ‘new kid on the block’ at the moment; for those fucked enough to receive it anyways. i’d asked for Exposure Therapy, but apparently I was too fucked (my words) for that – for the intense shit anyway. so I got the shortened version of it.

our tiny little country sports about a dozen EMDR therapists with about a dozen more in training. it’s all a bit of a stab in the dark by the sounds of it…but i listened to her, and then complied with the process…or processing.

before commencement though, i filled in four sheets of forms…to assess whether i was currently in a dissociative state and whether this therapy could send me into a tail spin and tip-off a top off aka suicide! apparently one can’t be in any way disassociated, medical or mental…hmmm she realises disassociation is my norm ay??

anyway, first we bring up, or remember, a distressing memory…my question was, ‘which one do you want first?’. apparently the earliest i can remember. So wah-lah, i dished up the first and then the questions began.

the questioning bit reminds me of CBT and honestly, i question myself harder than this. but i rolled with it. the idea was to describe the memory, then the feeling associated with the memory. cool.

my question to her was ‘how am I supposed to attach a feeling to a memory for that age?’ (age being 3).

she had prompts.

my beef with prompts and trying to attach a feeling to a memory from that age bracket is…you don’t really have the ability, or language to describe a feeling at that age. remembering my girls at that age, and my mokos, they fell to the floor and had a tantrum if they were upset or pissed off. they screamed if they were in pain, they cringed and hid behind one of us if they were scared.

they didn’t sit up and say ‘excuse me peeps, I’m feeling a deep sense of sadness and loss associated with you taking the fork off me and telling me in a slightly too stern tone, that i am unable to place it in the electricity socket’.

yep, it doesn’t make sense. so to add prompts to an event; or language to an event, when there wouldn’t really have been one … is dodgy to say the least.

so, i told her what my body did at the time of the event, because I can remember that. i told her she could interpret that how ever she sees fit, but i wasn’t going to add-on something that i could not have verbalised at the time.

this continued through 5 other memories. she wanted the ‘big one’ but i’m not going there yet. i don’t really want her mincing through my memories if i’m unsure she actually knows what the fuck she’s doing.

so after number 6 memory, all of them, varying degrees of horrific and fucked up, she moves into the next phase.

she sits next to me, waves her fingers strategically in front of my face and asks me to follow them. i do. i’m then asked to remember something good or ‘safe’. you know, the old ‘safe place’.

now let me digress or divert or whatever.

here’s where I have another problem with this whole therapy thing related to infant sexual assault recipients. (yes, you may have noticed I don’t do the title or the label like the text-book. say it as it is i reckon. i’m not a victim, or a survivor as such. i’m the recipient of some one else’s fucked up-ness. does that make me a victim and then survivor thereafter…probably…but don’t dress up the title with something a bit more palatable…it is what it is.)

my supposed ‘safe place’ is non-existent. i have a safe-ish feeling…sometimes. and quite frankly, if i had a safe place, don’t you think i’d be there? and if i had a sense of safety and security, don’t you think i’d take that with me everywhere and probably wouldn’t be having panic attacks and shit? there is no safe place. reality. fact. i have safe moments as memories…and i’m trying to remember more of them to balance the other stuff out. but the world is a desperately shitty, violent and fucked up place. period.

so, i told her this, and she persisted. so the best i could come up with, was a person that i had spent about 2 hours with, a few years ago, that had made me feel quite safe and protected in the environment that i was in.

that became the ‘safe place’.

so she’s waving her fingers, i’m following with my eyes, trying to ‘feel’ the safe place; and then she asks me to recollect the distressing memory, all the while watching her fingers; and then the safe place.

hey presto – ‘how do I feel now’.

dizzy was my response. so she did it again. how did I feel after that? …tired was my response.

and apparently that’s what I should feel.

and as the distressing memory makes its way from the front of my brain somewhere, to the back…the re-processing bit…i should be okey dokey after that. as I re-process the memory ‘properly’ and trade in the distressing for the safe…i ‘should’ be good.

and thats what i have issue with. the ‘shoulds’. i feel like a guinea pig.


kpm©


 

Image

emdr, treatment experiment

  • So the psychologist reckons we’re going to start EMDR therapy. She’s all perky and positive…she’s just been trained to the art…Mmmm….I’m sceptical…but I’ll give it a dam good go though.
  • Dr Google reckons it’s similar to Exposure Therapy and that’s…well, I’m still undecided.
  • The em-wave, coherence, bio-feedback thing is…shit at the moment. Can’t get the damn thing out of the red, which causes stress…anxiety…Grrrr
  • Still do partial raw food and lypo spheric vitamin c
  • On quarter zoplicone…however you spell it…sleeping pill!
  • Sleep is…tentative. 230am-3 is the ‘norm’ at the moment
  • Walking…is getting hard again. Something gives me a fright and that’s me for a week…I aint going anyway. That’s extremely annoying to say the least
  • Back to this EMDR thingy…psychologist is all perky and shit having been newly trained…which means I’m her first guinea pig…think that’s what makes me sceptical. Delving into my memories and shit, whilst I think about something positive?? Sounds like one of the many other little experimental treatments that are en vogue at one time or another.
  • Think I might figure out my own
  • Blogging seems to be working…pretty sure that’s not on ACCs list of treatment plans though
  • Still haven’t heard from Case Manager…its been…ahhh…10 months…apparently she’s ‘busy’ but she’ll get back to me
  • I got an advocate :)
  • I think there’s pressure from ACC to get a move on with the ‘treatment plan’ and get better all ready so they can cut my compensation off
  • Compensation hasn’t been reviewed for 7 years and is the huge sum total of $35 per week.
  • Assholes
  • Forgot to tell her my levels of pissed off-ness are almighty at the moment
  • Note – next session, go over all the shit above
  • 2nd note – if she gets that glazed eye, not really listening, look … FART. She should take notice then.

lessons & psychological misgivings. hey, it seemed to work though.


kpm ©


 

SaveSave

SaveSave