1) I am grateful that my sister and niece get to see my step-dad tomorrow so that they will feel some love from home.
2) I am grateful the heat issue in my truck was figured out today since it is fucking cold. Brrrrrrrr. LOL
3) I am grateful to my Therapist for making me talk to her.
4) I am grateful that my grammy feels so loved and adored by all of us.
5) I am grateful for the dog who loves to chase away the raccoons, I just wish they could chase away my bad dreams as easily. LOL
Therapy Day 1.....
I hate opening myself up to people, unless I know them, but part of my DBT Group Therapy is that I have to seek individual counseling as well. I have to do both type of counseling, otherwise I will be dropped from the program. Needless to say due to my break down in group on Monday, that is what she wanted to discuss today first and foremost. I was NOT happy. However after the hell I went through to finally just get an appointment, I was glad to be saying anything to anyone. I have 5 million things I need to get off my chest and I want to speak them to someone who doesn't judge me like my friends or family do or might.
So we started with my son. That alone is hard for me. He is my baby damn it! He does no wrong, but yet everything is wrong. I had to start by giving her some background on his and mine's relationship. So I went through the fucked up details of how his dad walked out when he was 5 minutes old, how I got a divorce when he was 3 from a jackass, how he was beaten by one of my boyfriends and how I gave him to my father because I was scared to leave the guy, then how Keith moved back and forth between myself anf my dad and his father, then how Keith seems to only want material things from me because everyone else gives them to him, and on to our current relationship that caused me to break down. SO basically I bawled like a babby for a 45 minutes and told the story of me and my son.
It's sad that something as precious as my son can be summed up in just 45 minutes when it takes a lifetime to raise them.
She then wanted to go on talking about my cutting and why such a joyous moment could bring massive self mutilating spells. When I cut, I don't just self mutilate here and there, I do massive amounts of self mutilating. Uncontrollably at that. It's like I have no sense of anything, I just slice and slice till I finally snap out of it. Why? How can one have no control like that over themself? I know there are a lot of us who don't have control over our "emotional mind", but how do we find other ways to cope? Trust me, I have tried "other methods".
So my Therapist and I got around to the "why I cut" after such a enlightening phone call from my son. The only answer I can come up with is because I was waiting for the ball to drop. By that I meant in my subconscious mind I was waiting for Keith to ask for something after he got through the niceties of the phone call. Or even a phone call later on asking me for something. So I jumped the gun and self mutilated before it even came, because in reality, I had NO reason to be self mutilating the way I did.
I've been trying to think in the here and now, along with many happy thoughts. The here and the now is the hardest because of the tunnel vision my head has. I have what I call a fog and my eyes see it. I hate it. My clinician talks about clearing your head, I can't because most days I don't even feel whats running around in my head. I don't think about stuff as I'm saying it, I can't process the thoughts that I have. I will think something, hell I can ponder it over and over for hours, and then completely forget about it. But you throw me in a kitchen or doing something for my family and I thrive like I never have before.
I don't understand this disease.
The Bipolar Workbook: Tools for Controlling Your Mood Swings
1 comment:
My best friend's son cuts. His dad was recently told he was bipolar but he had been self medicating for years and it was while he was in prison for various violations of previous paroles that he was finally diagnosed. Well, he was gone for a year and things were very out of control. For my friend's boy his reason for cutting was about control. It was something that felt good when he never knew what was going to be happening next. It took a lot of therapy for him to get than far. He had a hard time even remembering he did it and if it wasn't self evident he wouldn't know at all. He was in a moment of no control. How ironic is that? To do it for control and yet not to be able to control it once it's started. I'm rambling but your post reminded me of that and how hard it is for the mind to be able to recognize when it's not doing so well. Too bad minds don't have a backup hard drive.
oh yeah, and my middle son asks his dad for stuff too. He never sees him or calls him unless he wants something. It's not like I give him stuff here but the basics. His dad is the one with bipolar and he really blew all our money so I think my son feels like he is owed or something. His dad doesn't spend any time with him either so I guess he feels his dad can give him stuff as recompense or something. I told him he should call to actually talk but so far no luck.
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