one that won’t make me quit

My Dearest Diary:

So…went to my first therapist appointment yesterday for post traumatic stress disorder. I hate talking about myself and I hate watching the look of incredulity cross their face.

“Once there was a way to get back homeward
Once there was a way to get back home….”

“”When was the first time you were in therapy?”

“Well, the first time I went I was in kindergarten..”

“why did you have to go to therapy then ?”

At this point the use of her words “have to” have gotten ever so slightly under my skin.

So I tell her that I think my mother sent me because she didn’t know how to deal with such an extreme introvert.

“You mean you were shy?”

I didn’t mean shy but I knew if I corrected her a very bitter and sarcastic voice would not be controllable. I continued on to explain that I had lost a pair of shoes on the way to school and I was freaking out when I got to school and I told someone that my mom would beat me when she found out I lost my shoes. My mom was called in and I had to see a therapist and what my mom reported as the outcome is that it’s okay to hit your kids as long as they know ahead of time that hitting is the punishment.

“Sleep pretty darling do not cry
And I will sing a lullaby….

She asked me if I thought I needed therapy and I choked up a bit and answered that by the time I was in kindergarten I had an alcoholic father, an abusive mother and had been raped by my 16 year old cousin so of course I needed therapy. Of course I didn’t get the help I needed.

There’s that look of incredulity…. Beatings, rapes, alcoholism, heroine, divorce, betrayal and the ultimate…. The death of a child.

By the end of the therapy session she suggested that maybe my way of getting through the death of my child is by choosing not to grieve and that maybe that’s the best thing. She cited that I have always known how to survive even if it mean dosing myself up with heroine to get through things and maybe I know best. She also suggested maybe I look into meditation…. Buddhist meditation to calm my mind.

“Golden slumbers fill your eyes
Smiles awake you when you rise…”

I then explained that my brain works faster than that. I can’t calm my mind. I mentioned a doctor that did some testing and how it was a TV special on my brain. She asked for further information and I didn’t have it because I never watched the special. She then suggested I may have ADHD. For fuck’s sake.

My child is dead. I can’t sleep anymore because I am tormented by disturbing dreams that have nothing to do with my son or my waking life. Dreams full of people I can describe to you but have never met. My body aches all the time with phantom pain. I don’t eat for days and when I do I eat to much and end up having to vomit it back up because my stomach and my rib cage hurts so much. I never get a break from anything and it makes me want to run away. I meditate

all the damn time but my brain never shuts up…. And she wants to say ADHD. Yeah.

“Sleep pretty darling do not cry
And I will sing a lullaby….”

The never get a break issue is kind of big. I feel like I need to be alone and lick my wounds. There was one weekend when the house was empty and I was able to do that. But there has only been one weekend in 4 years that that’s happened. Everyone else gets a break…. Rowen will go to camp and Lenox has friends whose house she sleeps over at and Jordan went to Cancun for a week and Jer goes back and forth to Erika’s. the only time I’m alone I’m supposed to be cleaning up or unpacking or doing laundry. For a house wife to catch a break she needs to leave the damn house otherwise she’s still “on shift”

I want a good job, one that I’m proud to say I work at. Really I just want to write erotica in my pajamas but I’d do grunt work in an art gallery on James Street because that would be cool. Then when I left the house I wouldn’t be running away from something I’d be running to it. I’m rambling now and have become unfocused, as per usual.

“Once there was a way to get back homeward
Once there was a way to get back home….”

In the end I decided it’s all because I’m not getting enough sex and will likely focus on that until my next appointment….. yes, she booked not one but 2 more appointments with her. I feel like I speak gibberish and no one can understand what I’m saying.

Love,