The ants go marching one by one

When I was a camp counselor I knew what seemed like an infinite number of stupid songs.  I rapidly learned that the longer the song the longer the kids were occupied.  The ants go marching by became "Jen's song" because it was the one I was most likely to initiate.  It also unfortunately is a hard song to enjoy when sung repeatedly for months on end.  But right now my memories feel like ants that keep marching.

One of the things that this new therapy does is that I spend so much time focusing on one thing that things seem to pop out and either I know that we have something to talk about, or I know something in more context which makes the rest of the story understandable and so that Dr. Mind can coach me through his difficult series of questions.  It frustrates me at a times because of how memory works.  I have always remembered most of what happened, even things from when I was very tiny (this is why I keep coming back to tears when I watch Anne or think about the awesomely cute things she says.  When I was her age I had SECRETS.  She has no idea what a secret even is; I knew because someone threatened the knowledge into me.  I was so confused too; my reactions to my father or grandfather arriving were as excited as when I got out of my car and heard through an open window a little voice announcing "Aunt Jen's here!  Aunt Jen's here".  But all other similarities end there; I was never the carefree little thing she is.  And praise God for that.  But there are also many times that I am now confronted with new memories.  And those I know because I have a psych degree and this came up a lot during that, are not reliable.  They may or may not be true or they may be distortions of reality  Dr. Mind says it doesn't really matter if they are true, we just deal with the memory, make not hurt and move on.  Which makes sense since we certainly aren't going to find out.  Sometimes the new thing makes the rest make sense.  Once when Dr. Mind was first finding out the depth of what happened to me he was able to explain about something that made my memory make a lot more sense.  However if it is what happened (sorry to be so cryptic; blame the porn people) was what we guess based on the only difference in the experience being that I thought one thing was another nearly identical thing (sorry, that's hard to follow), then in that case the implications are a little frightening as it well, it just could have been, maybe even was worse than I remember.

But it is so hard when my increased sensitivity to memories is hitting out of the blue.  When I was at the dentist today I was supposed to be the last patient.  He came in and asked me wait a bit because he had a child with an injury from a fall coming in.  That poor little thing had hit her face hard enough to push her teeth up.  She was hysterical, they think in fear of the blood and he never got in there but sent her on to a pediatric dentist or specialist who could sedate her.  She screamed daddy so long and hard that it felt like the walls were shaking.   And suddenly there I am with one of my "always had" memories realizing it makes no sense. When I was 4 or 5 (pretty sure sure the summer I was 4 1/2) my memory tells me that my sister and I were playing fast food counter with the half-door on a camper.  In my memory I was too close when the door opened and was hit in the mouth.  My 2 bottom front teeth were loosened.  The dentist pushed them in the sockets the best he could, told my mom they'd just fall out early and I'd be fine.  I was about the first if not the first in kindergarten to lose 2 teeth and I think they came out soon after school started.  Again, never forgot this.  It's even in my baby book to some extent I think.

The problem?  It came back to me listen to that little girl scream in pain and terror that there's a flaw in my memory.  If I was 4 or 5 my sister was 1 or 2.  There is no way that we played that game at that age.  Later she may have opened that door into my face but that is not what happened to my teeth.  I have no idea although like with all these questionable memories there is a reasonable guess.  I mentioned my memory to my mom when telling her about the dental visit.  Dead silence, subject change.  So apparently someone knows.  And now I am stuck with the annoying feeling that I want to remember and that wanting means nothing because if I do remember that doesn't mean that it is even true.

I could continue with these new memories but I'm not going to because each time I start to say more I delete it.  But it is frustrating at best.  The truth is that my little girl years were so full of people telling me lies that I can't sort them out enough to know what really happened.

It also takes so much time.  I'm supposed to start a new "story" with Dr. Mind Thursday.But now, before that, I need to talk about this.

Good news in that my medical bills from the hospital are down from $30,000 to $800, none of which I am actually responsible for.  I don't even know what all the $30,000 includes since I'm sure my hospitalizations were more than that since I know my first psych stay 2 years ago was $15000 and I've had 2 of those, one of which was longer, plus the lithium toxicity which had an ER component and a bunch of labs, surgery and 24 hours inpatient with that, and what I remember as being an extremely expensive special kind of CT scan. I don't want to know.  I bet the last year has been at least $50000 if not more and that's not including meds or therapy or co-pays.

Anyway, I think my dryer load is done.

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