Meeting the new therapist on Friday was like hanging out for root canal. I thought my insides were going to spontaneously and very painfully combust. Thursday night I barely slept and took enough sleeping medication to kill a small horse. So Friday morning my daughter was practically dragging me around the house – great going – epic mother fail number 106. The girls were in their holiday program but my son was home with me. That was fine, we snuggled up and watched car movies. Until the little man finally pyked on me and had to have his nap. So after he was down I watched loads of mindless, drivel. Empty, crappy low brow television aimed at killing off brain cells. Love it! I even lay across the couch like a right piece of trailer trash, I just lacked the customary liquor and crack. Yes, I’ve been watching too many American movies recently.
Anyhoo, I managed to judge the time wrong and still ended up gunning it to get to my appointment on time. We met my husband there so he could take little man. Fortunately it was a beautiful day. And there’s a garden and the woman even had those chuppa chup things? Not sure what they’re called – lollies anyway.
The woman was particularly older than I’d imagined. Getting into granny territory. An odd voice, not soft, almost robotic. She seemed awkwardly twisted. Not like quisimodo but perhaps just reactionary to ongoing back pain. Very sharp short hair and piercing blue eyes. I did my usual and made jokes – not about her but rather about me being mental etc. she wasn’t amused. She definitely didn’t get my humour. When we talked about disassociating she said some people could disassociate so badly they could go off for hours and come back with receipts and not know what they have been doing. I said I’d had have to remember that next time I i go to the mall to tell my husband. She got very serious.
I went briefly over the summary. I didn’t want to get into details. She wasn’t warm but she wasn’t really cold either.
I sense I will get real professionalism out of her and I will get treated equally. I don’t think I will get to know her personal history and I think she will be honest and fair. That is ultimately all I have wanted.
But I am nervous to trust again.
I am scared to open up and go into things again.
I don’t see her again now for another two weeks. I guess the break is good.
Friday night I puked my guts up all night. I felt so ill. Stress, coincidence? I don’t know.
But I know that I’m feeling down, my medication will have been affected by the sickness and aside from looking after the kids, I don’t look after myself. I don’t pursue the things that I enjoy. I’ve just stopped.
And that makes me sad.
I’m not living. I’m merely existing.