oh, & this happened ..

i let the psychologist ‘go’ ..

yup.

.

edited copy :


From: XXX
Sent: Thursday, November 7, 2019 6:35:36 PM
To: XXX
Cc: XXX
Subject: Re: XXX : Claim: XXX

[MY] RESPONSE:

kia ora

its easier for me to respond in the following way & have cc’ed in XXX so i dont have to repeat the discussion.

note: bullet points are my responses. [UN-BULLETED ARE FROM ORIGINAL EMAIL]

Kia ora – I’m confused if you want to be called XXX or XXX?

  • XXX is my birth name (as per documents). XXX is what im also known by. i use & respond to both.

 

Thanks for reading through the report.

  • youre welcome.

 

I’ve noted the appointment change in my diary.

  • noted.

 

In your last email you expressed your concern about XXX breeching your privacy.

  • apologies, i should have taken that up with XXX directly.

 

I am surprised at your response in some ways, most clients want me to be up to date with all their assessments and reports.

  • i am not most clients.
  • if given the choice i would have informed you myself.

 

I can also understand your concern – I imagine you didn’t realise that I have access to all your reports and assessment in ACC.

  • i am aware.

 

I’m not sure if you remember, but in one of our beginning sessions we discussed if you would give your consent for me to have access to your files in ACC and you gave your consent – what I should have added is that this includes future assessments – that is while I am your lead provider/therapist (ACC jargon).

  • i hadn’t forgotten & am aware.
  • having access to My file was not the issue.
  • the issue, that i will note with ACC & take up with the lawyer if i feel the need, is that i had not ‘opened the mail’ addressed to Me the client, about My application & decline of LOPE, before that information was disclosed with yourself, a contracted ‘employee’.

 

Is there a reason you wouldn’t want me to know?

  • refer above.

 

I know that we are still building trust

  • trust isn’t the issue.

 

and so many barriers exist that hinder that trust – i.e. me being Pākehā, a psychologist and contracting for ACC.

  • this may be your perception but is unfounded.  1. i have pakeha lineage. 2. the last psychologist was pakeha of scottish descent. 3. she also contracted for ACC.

 

It might be hard to believe, but I really do want the best for you and I am here to support you, not just because it is my job but because I do my job because I care about people. Might sound cheesy but it’s true.

  • i engaged with XXX services therefore your services, for assistance with managing pts(d), as is my right too under my accepted claim with ACC.  i am uninterested in whether it is your calling or whether you care about ‘people’ per se.

 

You don’t need to reply to this if you don’t want to, we can discuss it in our next session if you prefer.

  • i had said that id be busy over the next few weeks with the move & i dont do, or appreciate this type of lengthy email; similar to lengthy verbal discussions, as i have repeatedly said during our sessions. it isn’t conducive to stress levels / pts(d) symptoms.
  • noting that, i want to respectfully disengage & discontinue utilising XXX &  [PSYCHOLOGIST] as lead provider/s / therapist, as of 7 November 2019.
  • XXX, please note this.

 

I just thought I would respond in the meantime in case it was playing on you mind.

  • it wasnt.

 

Ngā mihi,

XXX

  • thankyou for the work you have tried to do thus far & i wish you well.

 

regards

[ME]

how u like them apples ….

a capital A. for Arrogance (which is actually dripping from the pores of NZ atm).

after waiting over 2 years & multiple requests to see a specific type of psychologist through ACC & then Me finally finding & engaging with one – the cunts send Me a letter to say they have found a psychologist & have approved planning sessions & how important it is for me to feel supported in my motherfucking wellness, ‘please do not miss your appointment & if we can help further, don’t hesitate to contact us’.
#getfuckedcunts

i fucken hate bureaucracy.

*breathing out … & letting it go grrrrr*


kpm ©


 

psych fyi:

the jury is still out about the psychologist.

but so far, so good. aka, i survived the appointment & so did she!


kpm ©


 

forgot to mention:

i meet a new psychologist today. slightly fucken nervous but that’s a given. this morning i’m chilling the fuck out as much as i can.

i have a list of shit i need to ask.

like: wtf can you offer me, cos i am way the fuck over all of this.

ok, so thats a question & a statement, but hopefully she gets the drift. fast.

wish me luck. see yah on the flip side.


kpm ©


 

notes to self:

i can honestly say, i bust my ass to be alright. every-single-day.

i do what i need to. what i don’t want to. what i know is good for me.

& it takes a physical & emotional toll. but im learning … slowly but surely, but i am progressing.

.

i got my (hopefully) final ACC appointment re income. if you’ve been around for the fuckery that is my barely existing income, then you’ll know that any income i can get, that is more than $40-50 per week, is awesome.

this last round has taken nearly 2 years. the wheels of bureaucracy are slow moving assholes, thats for sure.

anyway, i’ll be ok with this next appointment. its not till september so i’ve got time to prep.

again.

in amongst all this i also Finally got a list of potential psychologists that can do another round of EMDR with me, with a view to getting my ass more mobile – figuratively and literally.

well that was the plan anyways.

so i emailed the potentials.

8 of them in total.

out of the 8, 7 are ‘unavailable’ for reasons varying from, unqualified, unavailable, unwilling & long ass waiting lists. 1 i haven’t heard from yet.

while slightly disappointing, i was more struck by the lack of support that there is available in this country, for peeps like me. i’m sure its the same worldwide??? !!! but for here, is so severely lacking it left me wondering what the fuck would i have done if i was actually in crisis mode?

over the past couple months there’s been stories told of people committing suicide for lack of intervention, people that have been so desperate that despite trying to commit suicide and failing, they were still discharged the following day. the follow up is lame and the longterm support is just as fucking lame.

it also left me wondering if ‘they’ actually want us dead and gone so they dont have to deal with us or pay out.

guess what: i dont think i’m wrong.


kpm ©


 

the driving.

did i tell yah, i drove the other day?

well i did.

& even though i can’t go over 40ks without starting to shake, i feel comfortable as fuck, puttering along like a nana.

over the next few months i’m going to teach myself to drive again. slow & easy wins the race they reckon. so thats how i’m gonna approach this.

& cos if i wait for the elusive psychologist & their elusive exposure therapy, it could be another motherfucking year!!

nope. we doing it my way this time.


kpm ©


 

you did what? … well that was fucking awesome! … good on yah!

Said No-one ever … well not today anyway … well alright, slightly over dramatised … said no-one today, that mattered anyway!

Why the tanty??

I had a gi-normous day today … profoundly difficult and profoundly victorious, in more than one way!

The long-awaited ACC assessment – that I laid a complaint about – that has taken approximately 3 years to get – that may see my $35 per week grow by … a little bit more, hopefully – Yeah … well that; I had that today.

I have been nervous as fuck about it for the past few days as I found out I had the appointment on Friday for today. Usually I’d kick up a stink about that, cos I need a hell of a lot longer to prep for shit like that … but cos I’d waited so long for it, I agreed to it … and have quietly prepared ever since.

I wasn’t going to write about it or talk about it with anyone … didn’t want to jinx the process ;)

But I prepped. Made sure the partner was available to take me … got my ‘kit’ ready … downloaded travel appropriate, distraction, ‘happy’ music and tried to relax. In between ‘quakes’ I tried to remember that this has been a long time coming and I wasn’t going to miss it … I’d ‘medicate’ if need be, just to get Me there.

I had about 3 hours sleep last night, but remained calm. And somewhere in between planning what to wear and finding at drink bottle at 4am, I had a thought ..

I’d been discussing with a fellow blogger, my dislike of the wind … earthquakes etc … that they were ‘unpredictable’. She said something interesting … to the effect … that a tree ‘bends’ with the wind, it doesn’t stay rigid. In all my planning for the unpredictable, I had severely taken the ‘joy’ out of everything … well was hard pressed to find any joy actually. Well as I was planning what to wear, I headed for the comfortable shit first … reason … less hassle. Then I found a dress I hadn’t worn in ages, and it made me smile. So I found my old leather jacket and my sneakers to wear with it … and I smiled again. I actually felt good. When I woke up at 8, after my hour’s nap lol … I looked outside and it was pissing down with rain, that I don’t mind, but it was also windy and fucking freezing! My lovely little dress was not going to cut it … at all. Fuck fuck fuckaroo … was the track I was heading down, cos my well thought out plans had been fucked up by nature … again … when I remembered the ‘wind’ analogy. So, moments later, whilst sitting on the toilet, I was trying to figure out how to ‘bend with the wind’, and enjoy it … fuck!

After my business, I headed back to the room where my lovely little dress was all laid out … put it away … and tried to find something else that would make me smile … and I did :) Another dress, not anything like the other, that I hadn’t worn in like, forever … then i found a top and some nice red stockings … matched them up with my leather jacket and sneakers … and wahlah!! I smiled … I had just learnt how to bend it like beckham instead of having a panic attack because my shit had been disturbed.

Hurdle 1, done!

I went about my morning routine … coffee … coffee … breakfast and … coffee; I did the shopping online to be delivered when we got home … and then lo and behold, Mr bursts out of the room, hollering “How much did you spend on shopping, I’ve only got $40 left … fuck it all” and proceeded to have a man-sized tantrum.

Now usually, at such a pivotal time and moment for Me, I’d freak, toss my cookies, cancel any appointments and have One Outs with big mouth. ‘Don’t you fucken talk to me like that’ … ‘I spent as much as we needed’ … ‘My spending is our fucken spending, don’t fucken forget that , cunt’ … ‘Where’d the rest of YOUR fucken money go then?? Oh that’s right, you didn’t pay Your fucken parking ticket, or Your doctors bill … both went to the fucken debt collectors and Yes that’s right, like I said last fucken week … If you don’t pay those bastards they will take what you owe out of your pay check!!’ … ‘Fucker’ …

But instead, feeling rather ‘bendy’ … I breathed … focussed on the fact that I needed to get to my appointment and this cunt was my ride … but like fuck was I going to be intimidated by a man size tantrum or engage in any kind of discussion re ‘missing’ money right … now. I needed to do ME. So I did the only rational thing I knew … and I ignored his funky ass.

I continued to get my shit together … I got in the car … turned on my music and sang as loudly and joyously as I fucking could … I took photos … I breathed some more … I sipped on my water … and I sang even louder.

I had given him previous instructions of which route to take to minimise stress, and he did. Good.

We got to the appointment early and Partner sat in the car … trying to sulk. I looked at him and said ‘I told you I need you to come in with me until I’m settled, then you can go’ … he reluctantly got out of the car and came in with me.

It was a Psychological Assessment … Impairment assessment thingy … I got to re-live my history of sexual assault as a child … with details … dates … positions … feelings … faces … Yeah … I got to re-live that shit again, because that’s how these cunts like to assess shit. It went on for nearly 4 fucking hours.

The Partner stayed for the first 10 minutes then left. Fine.

I did what I needed too.

I lined up the coasters on the table … I fiddled with the ornament in the middle of the table … I took off my shoes … moved my seat … turned off the down lights … announced that I’d be swearing liberally as that’s how I talk usually and trying to be polite only gives me a headache … The psychologist nodded his approval … not that I was looking or asking for it.

But that’s what I did. 4 hours later … I was fucked!!

When I left the office I felt like I had been run over by a bulldozer … my eyes were blurry, I was shaky and nearing tears. But I had expected that … and prepared … with chocolate chip cookies … which I ate all the way home … whilst listening to my music … again. I had one slight panic attack at the lights but had brought an ice pack for my face … that helped.

So while I was stoked to have ‘completed’ this mission with minimal ‘after effects’, sort of … I was waiting for a “How did you go dear?” … “Are you OK?” … “Do you want a cup of tea?” … something.

But I got nothing. Not a word. Not an encouragement. Not a fucking high-five … nuddah!

Usually I would be devastated but I think I’m too fucked to give 2 shits really … but it has fucked Me off … and it is something I’m going to address with his Royal Sulkiness before the week is out ….

After, I have taken care of Me.

After, I have High Fucking Fived my own shit.

After, I have bought myself a bitching coffee from the Cafe tomorrow.

After, I’ve finished listening too and posting all the songs that make me feel OK.

After, I have finished going on about it on My Blog.

After …. after, I have done right by ME.

Not cos no other cunt will … but in spite of it … and because …

I fucking deserve it … and I deserve an explanation.

I won’t be treated like that and let that shit slide. Not anymore!

—– The one compliment I did get today, which I took … was from the psychologist. As we were nearing the end of all this shit … He looks up, moves his glasses down his nose, and says with quite an interested and stern look … “How the fuck are you still ‘here’?   … You have a strength that is rare … do you know that?”

I cried.

Told him it is Stubbornness.

*(noting that he had dropped the F bomb … Yuss lol)


kpm ©


 

Image

the last one … apparently

Would have been nice to have a decent heads up … but oh well. Apparently todays session with the shrink (psychologist) was the last one. As it turns out, ACC don’t allocate so many sessions, they allocate a timeframe … and apparently that timeframe is up. Did they let me know … No. Did they let the shrink know … Possibly. Have they paid the shrink yet … No. Assholes.

But anyway, with that rant out-of-the-way…

I have to focus on what I have achieved so far:

  • That I can walk to the mail box by myself.
  • Into the back yard by myself.
  • That I can walk to the shop by myself.
  • The beach by myself.
  • I can walk without a stick.
  • I can walk without the breath pacer thingy.
  • I can ride in the car.
  • I can ride in the front seat of the car.
  • I can sleep without medication now.
  • I can sleep up to 9 hours some nights.
  • The nightmares have minimised.
  • I know how to breathe my way through things.
  • I have tools for panic attacks that aren’t medication.
  • I’m not afraid of my feelings.
  • I know how to ground myself.
  • I know what I need to do to get my senses ‘un-heightened’.
  • I can talk to a stranger.
  • I can enjoy things.
  • I smile at things.
  • I smile at me :)

And there’s more, that I’ll keep reminding myself of over the next few days, so as not to freak out, that my main source of therapy, back up, re-training, life line has now been terminated.

Breath ….


kpm ©


 

Image

1st one for 2016

I’ve had a break from the shrink and all the shrink things that go along with therapy, for about a month…Christmas, New Years stuff and all. I enjoyed Christmas and New Years in my own little, ‘coming into my own well-being’, way! I lessened the breather thingy and the use of my walking stick…I’m still rocking the headphones and music and sunglasses and small bag of tricks, for most outings. But on a whole, its been steady progress, without having to check in with the shrink.

So all I’ve been soaking up really is the goodness that is beach life…the sun, sand, birds chirping, the occasional passer-by, good food, the garden, the ocean, the sound of the ocean, bright stars at night, warm fires…beach life!

And yesterday we floated off for my first 2016 appointment with the shrink; garbed in sandals and shorts and t shirts…feeling like we had just got off the plane from the tropics…we rounded the corner, heading for the city; and got met with dark and gloomy rainclouds…not the nice kind. I tried to remain positive…whilst sitting in the front seat! Yah Me! I tried remaining, in spirit, in the sunshine, we had just come from.

Then we entered the city.

Now on any given day…PTSD day that is… the city is a head fuck. But I was prepared yesterday, I thought. But the anxiety hit me as soon as I got to the outskirts…its hard to explain….

But it kind of looks like this….

THERESPEOPLEANDWALLSANDSOUNDSANDHOUSESANDFLASHINGLIGHTSANDSPARKLYLIGHTSANDMOREWALLSANDMOREPEOPLETHERESNOROOMTOBREATHNOBIRDSNOSUNJUSTCRASHINGANDBANGINGANDNOISETHATMAKESNOSENSEANDMOREPEOPLERUSHINGANDRUNNINGANDBUSYANDBLANKANDPALEANDLOUDANDLAUGHINGATNOTHINGITSMELLSFUNNYANDTHERESNOSWEETNESSORAIRORROOM……………….ANDITJUSTDOESNTMAKESENSE……………………………………………

Yeah, that’s what it feels like!

So we get to the office and I said to the partner; who is a whole lot better by the way (and that is another post!); ‘it’ll be an hour, please be back by 11’.

The shrink did all the ‘touch base’ stuff and we didn’t do EMDR, thank fuck. 11 o’clock rolls around and we’re finished…and I’m feeling pretty ok. Until I realised the partner wasn’t there to pick me up yet. So, I had to wait in the waiting room. Now this is the first time I’ve sat in the waiting room…for reasons that make sense to me…the receptionists voice is god awful; its shrieky and shrill; the phone rings, people come through, its suffocating…blah blah.

I sat in that waiting room for 20 minutes and had myself a delightful 8.9 on the panic attack Richter scale! I tried the music and headphones and colouring in book and breathing…..and it got worse….I tried to think clearly and reasonably and it got worse!

BUT…I rode it out; I got through it; and the partner got to me eventually! I’ve definitely still got issues with waiting…and that’s something I’ll take up with the shrink next week.

But, coming away from  the office and navigating traffic and collapsing at the daughters house for an hours nap…I got to reassessing a few things….

There’s a huge push to reintegrate back into the work force…be productive…be ‘better’…get busy…get going…move somewhere that will provide ‘opportunities for meaningful employment’….blah blah fucking blah.

Well, I don’t think that whole routine gels with a well being that is centred on well being! Not for me anyway! I don’t want a bar of it! And when I talked to the partner…after ripping shreds off him for being late and leaving me to wait and feel vulnerable…blah blah!!!…It turns out he was having a similar wave of thought! He had gone off, after dropping me at my appointment, to see a guy about paint.

Now here, where we live, when you go to see a guy about paint, it takes about 3 hours and involves discussion about where you all come from, the garden, the weather, the fishing, the guy down the road that fixes cars, the house that’s up for sale across the road…and finally, paint. Then you get a tin of paint from the guy and you walk home. But the partner…he sat in traffic for 15 minutes, got 2 minutes down the road and waited for the road works for another 15 minutes…rounded the corner and sat in traffic for another 10 mintes before heading off to see the guy about paint! When he got there…the guy was out! So he headed back…through all the traffic…hense being late by 20 minutes!!! The partner was surprisingly calm….but…he wanted to go home…back to the beach! He said, he couldn’t understand why everyone was in such a hurry…what was so god dam important that you had to be cutting someone off in traffic, speeding on by and tooting aggressively at everything! I have to agree! It’s no wonder there’s so many head fucked people around….im pretty sure there is no need for all that rushing about…and from what I know about adrenalin and cortisol now…its definitely not good for us!!!!

So, in a nutshell….the shrink session was abit blah…everything after was enlightening but fucked!

Shrink next week….the art of WAITING???!!!!


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 ©


 

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I don’t want to close my eyes

 

Sometimes I don’t want to turn the lights off…and I don’t want to close my eyes.

Sometimes I don’t want to sleep…just in case I can see what I do when my eyes are closed.

That sometimes moment…is now.

She says, the psychologist, that even though I don’t want to do something, I need to just do it anyway. It’s all part of the new theory of not letting your thoughts rule you. Just because I think something doesn’t mean that its real. Or that it should stop me.

But she’s never been in my dreams. And she’s never been there when my eyes are closed.

She says that it will get better. And she’s right in part.  It is better. Sometimes.

She says to get my ‘bag’ of sensory things when I feel like I don’t want to be present. To find the thing that helps ground me.

But I don’t know that I need grounding at the moment. I just don’t want to close my eyes. And I don’t want to be present.

I haven’t told her yet, that the thing she says I should do…the, just do it anyway…is what I’ve always said. Just do it anyway. It hurts but just do it anyway. You don’t like it but just do it anyway. It’s been the survival theme song.

And now it’s supposed to help me let go of everything that I see when my eyes are closed.

It’s some fucked up shit alright. Times like this, I wish I wasn’t giving up the pills.

But I am…and I won’t give up fighting…cos I don’t…and I will be alright…and I will close my eyes…and I will sleep…and I will be alright.


kpm ©