I really don't remember when I posted last or what I said and I don't feel like looking back. This has been a blurry, tired, painful week that actually wound up with some surprises. Pretty much Monday night I was awake all night. The remainder of the week I have had a constant headache. Occasionally tylenol and klonopin meet and the pain improves or goes away for a few hours, but every 4 hours minimum for 4 1/2 days I have had a throbbing headache. There is a lot of muscle tension with it and some light sensitivity at times so I think it is likely a migraine. I keep not sleeping and then when I need to wake up and decide if the headache is bad enough to see the doctor I sleep through it. Tomorrow I MUST get up and do that as I do not want to do this all weekend. My blood pressure is fine, I haven't accidentally eaten anything I shouldn't, I just have a terrible headache.
For whatever reason I had a horrible reaction to Monday's therapy. I finally got back on a lot more anxiety medication and calmed down a reasonable amount. The problem is that the anxiety med defeats at least some of the effectiveness of the therapy, but the 2 doctors are going to work that out between them. I've suggested that I may be an exception as I don't ever want to feel like I have the last several days and since my anxiety tends to be rather severe I may just not be ready.
So today I saw Dr. Mind. We both anticipated a rather tough session I think. Instead I was able to show him what made me freak out Monday, put it in context of some other things, and then discuss some ways that 18 year old Jen actually turned a lot around in the abuse arena. Things I really hadn't thought much about. A day came that I made threats back. More days came that I fought back however I had to fight. And while the attempts at abuse didn't really stop they changed, and I gained enough power to threaten right back. I almost had him out of my life when I found out I was going to be a big sister. I knew that baby would need a strong adult and I don't regret anything except not knowing him now. But my father was afraid enough of me that when he was being a huge jerk and I felt the baby wasn't safe and told him that either he calmed way down and showed me the baby was safe or I was leaving with the baby. I gathered things up to go and would have and he knew it. We didn't talk about this part but I think it is also significant: I also learned empathy for him. Somewhere this week I ran into a statement about "what is your last memory of college?". My last memory of college is finishing dragging everything I owned from my 3rd floor walk-up dorm to the car, getting ready to say goodbye to friends and finding my father who I was trying to gently remove from my life and had not invited to graduation due to a lack of social skills standing there with a useless gift (that I need to find and sell because it was valuable) and the innocent belief that I'd leave my invited guests to go eat with him (or go anywhere alone with him; I was so done with that). And we talked about that. What we didn't go into was that my last feeling from college was sorrow that he had come so far, actually kind of took a risk of rejection, and that for once he tried, sort of fumbling, to do the right thing. So if we could just skip to the very ending and stay there it would be able how I came out kicking butt. I owe some coaches some huge thank yous, something I'm going to do some day. I tell these stories and coaches show up as safety nets a LOT.
I also asked if I was going to have to say EVERYTHING. He said he wasn't sure which of several ways this will go to decrease my stress but get me through it. He seems to t aying things way though. I don't know if I sounded like I thought that was a good idea. I don't want to. I don't know for sure that there is a good benefit for the discomfort. We talked about not worrying about making him uncomfortable talking about things that are usually not said and that I do that, try to protect him, but he is missing that doing that protects ME. I know why he thinks it's the other way, but I can say anything in medicalese, but not when it is me. I have trouble telling the gynecologist what is going on. But at least my greatest fear may be avoidlable if I can talk fast.
I came home and slept from the exhaustion of the session and the klonopin and had a bizarre dream about foster care. I wasn't in foster care and if foster care were as kind as what I dreamed I might have agreed to it. But it isn't and I didn't, and this dream is going to be related to something else.
And now it is time for another round of tylenol and klonopin and hopefully some sleep. I was kind of hoping to sleep in bed tonight. But off to the couch I go. This helps so I don't want to complain but it would be nice to have a few more choices of positions to sleep in.
Anyway, goodnight if you've made it through all this.
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