Dr. Mind and I are working on what hopefully is the last PTSD story. Unless a huge can of worms opens up this will end it. Problem is, I feel nothing. We've battled this repeatedly but this atime is especially bad. Over the weekend I was supposed to write feelings beside the stories and then use those as cues. I did it, I even worked hard at it, but it was just filling in words like fill in the blank tests. So I didn't bother reading it because I knew it wouldn't have much purpose when the feelings were only expressionless words recited every few sentences.
So next week (yes, week, this is week 1 of 1 session per week) we have to do another of the exercises that force me to not run away into the deepest part of my mind rather than feel anything in conjunction with the child abuse. These exercises are hard, partly because Dr. Mind becomes much more forceful than ever before and it's hard to handle a changed Dr. Mind. I talked to him about this being scary and he knows and seems to feel bad but there is no forewarning about this stuff. I can tell that it's coming because he becomes grim. So I am not anticipatinig a fun experience next week.
I truly can't say how much this has changed things for me. The therapy is so hard and until we reached the part where I had shut down the sessions included me crying nearly constantly. Now I just wish I could cry. But I will, I'm sure.
I didn't do anything exciting today. Short bursts of cleaning alternating with lots of rest, a nap, and now my stomach is upset and I am feeling anxious about vomiting. Not interested.
Tomorrow I will clean more (I want a shiny clean house for after surgery and would LOVE to have time to paint my bedroom before the big day) and I want to make a prototype set of table cloth pieces. I'm making a sort of patchwork picnic tablecloth for each family for Christmas. My grandma did this and so having one that is made for them will be nice for my siblings. After I'm sure I know what I'm doing I need to start cutting out squares. I need a lot of them.
Anyway, that's my story. I'm emotionless, at least in response to painful parts of my past. The funny thing is that I find this last year upsetting because I remember so little and even fewer feelings; I most wanted to die. Dr. Mind is encouraging me strongly to not try to remember. I did talk to him one day that I think sometimes I want to talk to people/him about something and to me it's the first time the conversation has occurred and to him it's the 40th because I don't remember those things.
Getting tired. I hope I can sleep instead of feeling sick And now I've got a laptop, laptop cooler, knitting and a feline on my lap. I'm guessing that I won't be knitting for a while. Oh well. The feline in question is Anna, the old one and her health has taken a major turn for the better recently. She's backtrack again, but for now I'm enjoying her truly feeing well. Earlier today I saw something out of the corner of my eye; it was Anna throwing her toy mouse to bounce off the tv screen. I'm pretty sure she has even gained weight. Go cat!
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