stupid fucking bullshit. no matter what good thing happens there is always bullshit to follow. Pointless stupid fucking retarded ass bullshit that doesn't mean anything, doesn't contribute anything, doesn't teach anything. things in life just happen around you all the time and you can't plan for it. you can't change it. shit just happens and you have to deal with it. accept it as an inevitability and let it wash over you while you say, "hmm, that sucks, oh well."
There isn't anything particular that has happened to spark this post. I dropped my phone. That is IT. I dropped my fucking phone and it went under my bed and i am recovering from surgery and it was a giant fucking pain in my ass and i am pissed. It just is so stupid how things get fucked up so easily. Whatever. Over it.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Monday, November 21, 2011
Touche, life.
My friend just told me that she is pregnant. She has never wanted to have kids and the guy she is with, well, he is not my favorite. I am trying to have the mindset of "if you're happy, I'm happy," but it is really hard for me. I don't think she is in a good position to be having a kid and the dude is wack and this shit just falls into people's laps every fucking day and it's all I have ever wanted. I mean, not like that, not the way she is having it but the man and the kid and all that...fuck me. How is this ok? Life is crazy, and i am not super stoked on it right now. I guess it's like the "Always a bridesmaid" type thing...."always an Auntie, never a Mom."
Thursday, November 10, 2011
too much stuff!!!!!!!
So many things...I haven't been writing much lately even with all of these things happening and I think it is because for the last two weeks things have been so heavy and intense that if i let myself feel anything about it I wouldn't have been able to cope. In the last couple weeks I have been dealing with a student who has been in crisis every day, screaming and begging to be normal, it's absolutely heart-wrenching. I have found out that my Aunt, who is actively battling a very terrible form of aggressive lung cancer was hospitalized for pneumonia, not cool. I took a good friend to the ER when she was is a psychological crisis of her own, thank "God" she is safe. I am approaching (rapidly) a pretty major surgery, the anniversary of KC proposing, the anniversary of his death, my birthday *who cares* and the major holidays. How would anyone cope with this? Mental breakdown of my own seems too time consuming. So instead? Nothing. Numbness. Disconnection. How else does someone cope when shit just keeps piling higher and higher on top of you? If you don't have time for the back to break, then you just keep trudging forward as if you are fucking twinkle-toes McGee, light on your feet without a care in the world, right? At least that's how I am dealing, for now anyway. There has to be a breaking point, though, right? Like how long is it sustainable to just ignore sad and traumatic and difficult life shit?
The one good thing is that I had a therapy appointment the other night that allowed me to do some real work regarding the trauma side of KC's death. Although I didn't discuss anything that has been happening lately, or any of the upcoming tough days (holidays, anniversaries, etc), I was *forced* to revisit and do some real work around the day that I found out KC was missing, and the following day where I learned he was gone. The therapy I am practicing is called EMDR, or Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing. The theory is, basically, that when someone has endured a trauma, of any kind, that there is an integration problem left in the brain. Kind of like the two sides of the brain fail to communicate properly and whatever the trauma was doesn't integrate or process like any other information would. So, for example, when I think about my ex *boyfriend* who died in a motorcycle accident about 5 years ago, I understand that he is dead. I get it, I can wrap my head around it. (He and I had not spoken for about 6 months before the accident and had not been dating for years, and though it was and remains very sad, it was nothing compared to KC's passing). Conversely, even now, almost a year later, I can't quite wrap my head around the fact that KC is gone. dead. deceased, whatthefuckever but I just don't fucking get it. So with EMDR treatment, each side of the body is stimulated by either tapping the left leg, then right leg over and over, or in the case of my treatment, I hold little buzzers in each hand that buzz right, left, right, left, and I talk about the trauma. This is really intense and emotional and pretty scary because I am *forced* to relive the worst period of time in my life, and frankly when that day pops into my head, inevitably, on a daily basis, I do my best to literally shake the thought OUT of my head. I avoid it because it gives me such anxiety. So, of course, delving into every detail that I can remember of that 36 hour period of horror and and utter devastation and crippling despair wasn't exactly easy. I don't think I have cried as hard as I did in that session since December of last year. I held onto these buzzers and spoke about the phone call fro KC's father. I spoke about falling to my knees, unable to breathe desperate for what I had just learned to have been a bad dream, even though I knew I was awake. I spoke about Ashlee, the dear sweet life saver of a friend who picked me up off the ground, called my parents, and drove me to KC's father's house. I talked about looking into Dave's (KC's dad) eyes and begging for an ounce of hope that KC was OK and seeing nothing but sorrow and angst. I talked about knowing that KC was gone while simultaneously wishing that I would be proved wrong. I talked about seeing my parents walk through the door at 1:30 AM and seeing my father cry for the first time since he told me his mother died when I was about 8, or maybe 10. How people kept telling me to eat, or sleep, and I couldn't. I talked about how KC's sister walked in the door the following day at about noon and told me "They found KC, and he wasn't alive," and after that I just wailed and then I don't remember anything until I was in the urgent care getting a shot of Ativan in my ass. I remember vaguely people standing over me and talking but I felt like I was in a fishbowl and couldn't really see or hear anything clearly. I talked about all of these things and more while the buzzers were in my hand, and when I was done talking about it I closed my eyes and imagined being back there in those places, in that state of mind and I repeated this i think about 3 or 4 times as per the instruction of my therapist. I relived the worst period of time I have ever endured with these buzzers in my hands. It was daunting and miserable and seemed repetitive and difficult but somehow, each time, it became a little bit easier to deal with.
When I left the session, we scheduled another one for shortly before the anniversary of KC's passing and my therapist told me that her patient's have told her that generally the day after this treatment is pretty tough, but the next day after that people tend to feel more energetic and significantly better. I found that to be very true. Today is that second day and it has been much better than yesterday. Also, as I have been writing this I have noticed a bit of a difference in the "integration" thing. It feels a little more acceptable to me now. I guess that is good, although a little scary at the same time. Like acceptance is the last step *bullshit i know* to the grieving process and maybe I am not as willing and ready to be "done." Not that I am, but it's just kind of strange that I would be reluctant to feel acceptance. Like it is comforting to be uncomfortable or something. hmmm....gonna have to keep thinking about that one.
The point here is, that if you have experienced trauma, seek help and look into EMDR as a possible treatment for you. Also, that you never really know what you can handle until you're tested. I didn't even get a chance to mention to my therapist all of the things happening around me or to me or whatever, and I am a little frustrated by that but I am happy with and proud of the work I have done with my therapist so far, so there's that. I guess I am still going to be medicating for a bit, but that's fine. I am good with that. On that note..........
The one good thing is that I had a therapy appointment the other night that allowed me to do some real work regarding the trauma side of KC's death. Although I didn't discuss anything that has been happening lately, or any of the upcoming tough days (holidays, anniversaries, etc), I was *forced* to revisit and do some real work around the day that I found out KC was missing, and the following day where I learned he was gone. The therapy I am practicing is called EMDR, or Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing. The theory is, basically, that when someone has endured a trauma, of any kind, that there is an integration problem left in the brain. Kind of like the two sides of the brain fail to communicate properly and whatever the trauma was doesn't integrate or process like any other information would. So, for example, when I think about my ex *boyfriend* who died in a motorcycle accident about 5 years ago, I understand that he is dead. I get it, I can wrap my head around it. (He and I had not spoken for about 6 months before the accident and had not been dating for years, and though it was and remains very sad, it was nothing compared to KC's passing). Conversely, even now, almost a year later, I can't quite wrap my head around the fact that KC is gone. dead. deceased, whatthefuckever but I just don't fucking get it. So with EMDR treatment, each side of the body is stimulated by either tapping the left leg, then right leg over and over, or in the case of my treatment, I hold little buzzers in each hand that buzz right, left, right, left, and I talk about the trauma. This is really intense and emotional and pretty scary because I am *forced* to relive the worst period of time in my life, and frankly when that day pops into my head, inevitably, on a daily basis, I do my best to literally shake the thought OUT of my head. I avoid it because it gives me such anxiety. So, of course, delving into every detail that I can remember of that 36 hour period of horror and and utter devastation and crippling despair wasn't exactly easy. I don't think I have cried as hard as I did in that session since December of last year. I held onto these buzzers and spoke about the phone call fro KC's father. I spoke about falling to my knees, unable to breathe desperate for what I had just learned to have been a bad dream, even though I knew I was awake. I spoke about Ashlee, the dear sweet life saver of a friend who picked me up off the ground, called my parents, and drove me to KC's father's house. I talked about looking into Dave's (KC's dad) eyes and begging for an ounce of hope that KC was OK and seeing nothing but sorrow and angst. I talked about knowing that KC was gone while simultaneously wishing that I would be proved wrong. I talked about seeing my parents walk through the door at 1:30 AM and seeing my father cry for the first time since he told me his mother died when I was about 8, or maybe 10. How people kept telling me to eat, or sleep, and I couldn't. I talked about how KC's sister walked in the door the following day at about noon and told me "They found KC, and he wasn't alive," and after that I just wailed and then I don't remember anything until I was in the urgent care getting a shot of Ativan in my ass. I remember vaguely people standing over me and talking but I felt like I was in a fishbowl and couldn't really see or hear anything clearly. I talked about all of these things and more while the buzzers were in my hand, and when I was done talking about it I closed my eyes and imagined being back there in those places, in that state of mind and I repeated this i think about 3 or 4 times as per the instruction of my therapist. I relived the worst period of time I have ever endured with these buzzers in my hands. It was daunting and miserable and seemed repetitive and difficult but somehow, each time, it became a little bit easier to deal with.
When I left the session, we scheduled another one for shortly before the anniversary of KC's passing and my therapist told me that her patient's have told her that generally the day after this treatment is pretty tough, but the next day after that people tend to feel more energetic and significantly better. I found that to be very true. Today is that second day and it has been much better than yesterday. Also, as I have been writing this I have noticed a bit of a difference in the "integration" thing. It feels a little more acceptable to me now. I guess that is good, although a little scary at the same time. Like acceptance is the last step *bullshit i know* to the grieving process and maybe I am not as willing and ready to be "done." Not that I am, but it's just kind of strange that I would be reluctant to feel acceptance. Like it is comforting to be uncomfortable or something. hmmm....gonna have to keep thinking about that one.
The point here is, that if you have experienced trauma, seek help and look into EMDR as a possible treatment for you. Also, that you never really know what you can handle until you're tested. I didn't even get a chance to mention to my therapist all of the things happening around me or to me or whatever, and I am a little frustrated by that but I am happy with and proud of the work I have done with my therapist so far, so there's that. I guess I am still going to be medicating for a bit, but that's fine. I am good with that. On that note..........
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