fucking with hornets
So, imagine my anxiety is a hornets’ nest.
Today, I basically set about getting ready to kick the everloving shit out it.
I had my first session with an EMDR therapist. We just talked about my background today, and a little about EMDR. Turns out, I have so fucking much trauma in my background that it took longer to get through than she expected. And I left out what I could and tried to stick to the “highlights.” How fucked up is that.
Anyway. The impression I got (based on our short discussion of EMDR in the last ten minutes) is that I am in for a real hell ride for a while. We’re planning on sessions every other week, although when we get to a crucial point more frequent sessions might be needed. It sounds like it’s going to be pretty damn intense. And I mean, you know, once we make a breakthrough, that’s cool and I’ll probably get some relief, or get past my blood/vein phobia (which is what we’re focusing on, since I’ve got so many issues, but that’s the most pressing in my opinion right now).
I’m honestly pretty terrified, and we didn’t even do shit today other than talk about my health and my family. Also, apparently the fact that I’m on medication isn’t preferable for EMDR – it might hinder my response, although it seemed like that was more of a risk with the short-term, mid-crisis meds (like clonazepam), which I wouldn’t take before a session anyway. And then it might be necessary to re-do the EMDR if/when I’m off the meds.
Not altogether on-topic: I’m watching Sanctuary right now, and Magnus just had a line about abusive parents using “discipline” as a cover for cruelty. Damn does that hit a nerve.
My head is killing me – just a headache from stirring up all this shit. And it’s only going to get worse from here, at least for the immediate future. I really hope it’s only bad during the EMDR sessions, or like the evening after a session I’m shaken up. I hope this doesn’t fuck me up more or less 24/7 until we get “far enough” in the process – my really bad spells of anxiety or panic or PMDD have been really stressful, and not just on me but on Greg, too. I’m dedicated to doing whatever it takes to heal myself and be as well as I can, but I’m a little concerned that if EMDR is super rough and upsetting, and ratchets up my issues for a while, that it might stress our relationship. I think that’s probably what’s scaring me the most right now. Yeah.
Anyway, my head is killing me, so I need a break. And some tea.
Protected: Bullshit
Permalink Enter your password to view comments.
Protected: Nightmares and pedophiles
Permalink Enter your password to view comments.
I have been pretty slack about blogging lately. Well, that’s not entirely true – I’ve been slack about blogging *here*. (I’m trying out some other stuff, and considering getting my own domain. Yeah, crazy.)
Last week, my anxiety blew the fuck up. Again. It was like…a month ago when it blew up last time? I hauled my butt back into the doctor’s, and we upped my citalopram dosage, and added in a tri-cyclic to help me sleep (although I’m a little fuzzy on whether that’s a permanent maintenance med, or just short-term). From time to time, I have trouble swallowing, and it feels like food gets caught in my throat, and then I get freaked out about whether it’ll go down or whether I’ll choke – turns out that’s acid reflux. (Someone should really have sat me down sooner and told me to count on getting every health complaint *both* my parents have, as well as most of the ones one or the other of them has. I get genetics, I just figured I had *some* chance of dodging a couple bullets. Although cancer is a pretty big bullet to dodge, as is diabetes, so I’ll be happy with what I’ve got, actually. No complaints here.) Anyway, acid reflux apparently can be aggravated by anxiety, and it’s jacked up my esophagus and made it swollen, so that’s why food’s getting stuck. And then between the food getting stuck and hurting my esophagus some more, and increased anxiety from thinking I’m about to choke, it’s just a vicious cycle. Well, not any more – now I’m on…generic Prilosec OTC. Omeprazole, I think? Huge difference already. After several sleepless nights, which came on the heels of about two weeks’ worth of pretty disrupted sleep, I finally got a great night’s sleep, and I felt fucking INVINCIBLE the next day. And so happy that if I didn’t absolutely know otherwise, I’d think I was manic. I’ve got to see my doctor weekly for the time being, to make sure my meds are at the right level, but that’s fine with me, if it means feeling this normal again. And also not being in a constant state of not just anxiety but full-blown panic. (And there was one night where it got so bad I had some brief visual and auditory hallucinations – haven’t had panic that bad in years. Glad it’s over.)
Now for the fun stuff. First, Greg asked me to knit something for him. SQUEE! I made him an earflap hat, and he likes it! (Except it’s not quite warm enough for the ridiculously cold weather we’ve had lately, so I’m making him a double-knit one for the freezing weather.)
 |
I am so ridiculously giddy that he requested I knit him something, and that he likes it as much as he does. He’s also requested gloves, so I’ve got those on the way, too.
And I owe some Goth Monday pics.
1/25/10:
 |
2/1/10: an exercise in Goth Monday layering: tank top; grey slacks over terry yoga pants and knee socks; combat boots; hoodie; wool jacket; scarf; hat; gloves. (No pics of yoga pants, jacket, scarf, hat, or gloves. But the creepy nurse button – Liz McGrath’s work – is on my hoodie.) And tiger-eye rings, for decoration, not warmth so much.
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
2/8/10: Cupcake goth! Pink! Silly! Two of my favorite things.
 |
 |
And now I have a double-knit earflap hat to start.
