Harriet M. Welch

Today is the day I was supposed to meet my mother, my sister, and my sister’s friend for lunch and shopping. My mother already backed out, and yesterday my sister said she can’t go either. So it’s just me and her friend, L. L is the one who gets messages from dead people. Other than that, I like her, and she is easy to be with. I really need to get out more, so it should be good. I also went out to lunch with another friend yesterday, and that went well. I think know I spend too much time inside of my own head. I also haven’t been working enough hours, I need to work more. Especially now that I’ll be paying full price for therapy. Hopefully therapy will end soon. How do you know when it’s over anyway? My t once said that he works with people for an average of 6 months, and I’ve been going way longer than that.

Thank you for all of the kind wishes about my father. Yeah, I miss him.

I ran along a different part of the river yesterday. It’s the part with the rapids and waterfalls and it is really dangerous. There is a bridge built over the wildest section and I stood on that for a while. The water was so crazy it was making me dizzy. Here is a photo, I didn’t take this, but it shows the intensity pretty well:

I saw four people carrying rafts down to the water – I can’t believe anyone would raft in that ferocious water. And the water must be incredibly cold too. It was even too intense for me, I would not want to die that way. Not peaceful at all.

I’ve been thinking about how the act of suicide affects those left behind. I know someone whose mother committed suicide when she was teenager, and I’ve been doing some reading. Apparently, and judging by this person I know who is pretty screwed up, suicide of a parent or loved one has a lasting impact on the survivors. What isn’t fair, though, is that these people don’t generally show appreciation or gratitude for the suicidal person when she is alive. But after she is gone they get all fucked up. I guess one can’t really expect the people in one’s life to be constantly reassuring them that they are needed and valued though, especially when that person acts like nothing is ever wrong.

I think I am finally finished processing my therapy session from Tuesday. Am I the only one who does this? Therapy is only 45 minutes once a week, but then I spend two or three days processing what went on in those 45 minutes. And lately I’ve really been concentrating a little more on what I don’t say in therapy, because I think what I don’t say says as much about me as what I do say.

Yesterday morning I sent J an email (I’m so glad he lets me email, or he’d never know anything). Some of the email I took from my blog entry yesterday. The points I covered were:

1. the fact that during the last two sessions I had something I wanted to talk about, but I didn’t talk about it.
2. the issue about the search on my blog. I didn’t tell him what I thought he had done, but I told him that I thought he did something, and that is why I was asking him cryptic questions, but now I believe him and I’m sorry for doubting him.
3. how betrayal is a fact of life because people are not perfect and when I am betrayed by someone I shouldn’t just run away, I should deal with it.
4. how when he asked me if it is worth it to keep coming to therapy even though it is not getting any easier I immediately thought that he is saying he is sick of me and he is frustrated with me and doesn’t want me to come back. But now I recognize that those are automatic thoughts and I am now aware that those are my thoughts, not necessarily his.
5. the paragraphs from my blog entry yesterday about developing awareness and how I think going from awareness to change is going to be difficult
6. when he asked me what I thought his role is in the process and I was not able to answer, it is because I do not know what his role is, I don’t even know what I need or want because I am used to just taking care of things myself.
7. how we have misunderstandings because there are times when I am thinking something and I think I say it out loud, but I don’t, and then I wonder why he isn’t getting it (people are not mind readers).
8. that I feel badly that he feels I leave my sessions feeling down because he screws up or misunderstands something, when actually if he does misunderstand something it is most likely my fault
9. how I wish I could actually say all of this stuff while I am in the session, instead of saying about 10 words in 45 minutes and then writing a 3 page email that he has to read in his personal time

Yes, that’s a lot. All of that came out of the 45 minutes on Tuesday. And then he emailed me back saying that it is good that I can convey my thoughts in writing and that the awareness is good and we should work on becoming even more aware. And now the clincher. Six months or a year ago this would have made me angry, but now it is just thought provoking. Of all of those things that I wrote about in the email, nine things, do you know which one he picked as the one he wants to talk about next week?

Wait, I’m not going to tell you. I’ll let you guess. Put your guess in the comments, and I’ll tell you tomorrow.

And I went out to dinner with my friends last night, and it was nice. I had told one of them in advance that there is nothing new going on with my son so even though I appreciate her thinking about him it would be good if we didn’t talk about him. She must have told my other friend what I said, and neither of them mentioned him, and it was good. I’m glad I went.

I know I should not be worrying and thinking so much about this thing that I am worrying about, because I am sure that there is a good explanation for it. I just don’t know it yet, so why am I worrying about it before I have the good explanation? I guess I’m worried that there isn’t a good explanation for it, but it seems silly to worry about that until I find out if there is a good explanation. And obviously I am not writing about it either. In case I ever need to password protect my posts I will be happy to give out the password to anyone who emails me. The link to my email is over there on the right.

I just read something that made me think. It was on a mental health forum, and someone asked if the others used people’s names when referring to them in their therapy sessions, or if they just said the relationship. I would say 95% of the respondents said that they use names, and many of them also acted kind of judgmental towards those who did not use names, for example saying things like, “I’m confused about the question, why wouldn’t I? I tell my therapists my deepest darkest secrets, why wouldn’t I tell her names?” Good way to make the other 5% feel like shit, thank you very much. Someone did bring up the fact that in cases of abuse it is important to name names, due to the fact that abuse is frequently secretive and part of the healing process is to bring it all out in the open. And that makes perfect sense to me.

As for me, and you knew I was getting to this, I have never named names in therapy. I had no idea that people did that. I really don’t understand it either. My therapist has no idea who these people are, so why would I tell him their names? He doesn’t tell me anyone’s names, although I know that is a terrible analogy, he doesn’t really tell me anything. I would just feel so uncomfortable saying my husband’s, or my childrens’, or my friends’ names. That’s just icky. Maybe it’s a way for me to keep my distance once again, my fear of getting too close to people, distrust, etc etc. Maybe it’s the compartmentalizing behavior. All that crap. I just think that if I was a person who could name names in therapy then I wouldn’t need therapy.

And to end on a lighter note, here is a cute cartoon I saw. I guess if you’re not an INFJ, or if you are not involved with one, you would not be interested in this at all. But it’s so perfect.

So while I was laying in bed last night unable to sleep even though I had taken a klonopin (which I promise myself is a one time thing, I am not going back to the days of klonopin = sleeping pills since it took me 4 months to break that habit) I thought about what I was feeling yesterday. I think it goes like this:

Build up a little trust – take a risk – see what happens

If what happens is positive I get to take one baby step forward, like in mother may I.

If what happens is negative I get to take 10 giant steps backwards, plus even losing a turn.

Yes, the positive reinforcement has much less of an impact than the negative reinforcement. Maybe that’s why in a marriage 5 positives = 1 negative. (Look up Dr. John Gottman if you want to know more about that.)

Maybe in therapy 5 positives = 1 negative also.

I have difficulty with trust, and with making myself vulnerable. But I force myself to make disclosures every once in a while, and sometimes it ends up well and sometimes I’m left wondering what the hell I just did.

When I sent J the email about the recap of 2009, I took a big risk. I tried to make that letter as honest as possible. I know it was intense and it was long, and maybe I should have broken it down into smaller pieces over a longer period of time, but it was what I was thinking and feeling and I just wrote it all down. And J said it was great and perfect, but you know sometimes what people say and how they behave are different things.

We talked about the email last week, covering the section about having negative feelings about myself, and about the section in which I wrote that he doesn’t validate feelings. He said that didn’t bother him, but he mentioned that paragraph a couple of times, and of all the things to talk about from the email that’s the one he chose. Which is fine.

I also wrote in the email about:

My problems with communication and feeling misunderstood
Not seeing friends because of food issues
Being on the bell curve and being in the middle vs either end
Feeling different, not really knowing why I feel different, why am I different
Forgetting things I’ve done or said
Medication issues
The problem of intrusive thoughts

Yesterday I just thought perhaps there was more to talk about from that list of concerns. We did talk about food and eating which ties into #2 on that list, but isn’t exactly the same thing. I think what I’m feeling is that everything else besides negative thinking and feelings validation isn’t worth talking about. I don’t want to say I feel minimized because that implies I have some degree of importance, and I don’t think I have any more or less importance than anyone else (I probably feel I have less importance, but I’m working on getting over that.) So now I’ve taken 10 giant steps backwards, and I guess I’ll be losing a turn. Or maybe more than one.

Why would I make myself vulnerable at this point after experiencing a negative response last time?

I think this must be another example of me being too sensitive and taking things too personally and holding on to negatives. I never know whether it’s me being those things, or if a situation really warrants those feelings. I need some kind of ruler to carry around with me so that I can make objective judgments about my reactions.

But that is how I feel, and feelings aren’t right or wrong, right? But feelings aren’t facts either.

And I emailed my friends to tell them I couldn’t make it for lunch on Friday. One of them emailed back and said she totally forgot about it and she can’t make it either, so then they decided to reschedule and make it dinner instead! I really couldn’t say no, so we agreed to have dinner next week. But it’s ok, I’ve been thinking about it and I haven’t seen them in two or three months. One of these friends I have know for 26 years, and the other for almost 20 years. I think I can handle one dinner, it will be good. I just have to put on my thick skin before I go.

A bad night’s sleep again last night. Is it too much to expect to sleep well two nights in a row? The dog threw up again. I think the treats I got her must be disagreeing with her sensitive stomach. Then she was crying to go out and I had to have a talk with her to let her know that it is the middle of the night and she can’t go out. Then she was crying for water, so I got up to fill her water bowl. Then at 6AM my shoulder started dislocating (I think I’ve mentioned my dislocating shoulders before haven’t I? It’s a common occurrence while I’m sleeping) and I woke up suddenly clutching my arm. Not sure exactly of the order of events, but I felt it slipping out of alignment and managed to grab it and put it back together, and woke up somewhere along the line. It’s not a good way to wake up. But the pain only lasts a few minutes and then I was able to go back to sleep until my alarm went off. I’m the only person I know who has to get up earlier on weekend days than on weekdays, but Sunday mornings I work on the hotline.

And I left the dog vomit for my husband to clean up – and he actually did it! He’s the man.

Remember a few weeks ago I wrote that I had a caller who affected me a little too much emotionally and I cried on the phone while I was talking to her (she didn’t know I was crying, it was the silent kind). Well, I have talked to her since then and I was fine. I haven’t cried while talking to anyone else since that day, so I’m feeling more confident again.

I’ve been thinking about love, and how many people I love and who loves me. Have you ever thought about how many people love you? How many people tell you that they love you? I tell my kids that I love them, and they usually respond by telling me they love me. My husband tells me he loves me, but only after we….well, you know. So there are strings attached. And last week the woman who has cleaned my house every week for the last three years gave me a big hug and said “I love you.” I didn’t really expect that, but it was nice. So that’s it, my kids when I say it first, my husband when…you know, and Maria. Well, I know my mother loves me, but she never says it. But I know she does.

Remember the problems I had with my tooth between July and October? I wrote about it here:

http://harrietmwelch.com/?p=709
http://harrietmwelch.com/?p=711
http://harrietmwelch.com/?p=720
http://harrietmwelch.com/?p=722
http://harrietmwelch.com/?p=776
http://harrietmwelch.com/?p=799

But to summarize, a couple of years ago my dentist told me that I needed a filling replaced. The tooth wasn’t bothering me, but he is the expert, right?, so I got a new filling. Then I had a terrible tooth ache and I ended up needing a root canal and a crown.

So I went to a new dentist. Last year she told me I needed a filling replaced, the tooth wasn’t bothering me and I told her about my previous experience and that I didn’t want a new filling. She finally convinced me to do it in July. A few days after she put in the new filling I got a terrible tooth ache. This led to going back to her office, she looked at the tooth and told me there was nothing she could do, the filling was fine, I needed a root canal. I kept putting it off trying to find another reason for the pain, but ultimately I made the appointment for the root canal. In the meantime my tooth got infected and I needed antibiotics first. Then finally I had the first part of the root canal, and when the appointment for the second part came around my mother’s husband died and I had to postpone it. Then my tooth got infected again, and I had to take a different antibiotic which I had an allergic reaction to and got hives all over my body. The endodontist prescribed me a different antibiotic, the infection cleared up, I had the second root canal (oops I forgot to mention my bad reaction to the Novocain both times), and then the crown. All of this ended in October.

Today I went to the dentist for my regularly scheduled tooth cleaning. After the hygienist was done and while I was waiting for the dentist, I happened to see my chart on the counter right next to me, and I took a little browse through it. I read what the dentist wrote about me in August when I went back to see her after the filling and while I was in extreme pain taking 20 Advil every day. She wrote that she checked the tooth and the filling is fine and I need a root canal. She also wrote that “the patient is very upset, and is rude to me and to the other dentist who suggested she needs a root canal. Patient may need to be discharged from our practice.” Gulp.

Me? Discharged? I am the perfect patient! I’m never late, I don’t cancel, my checks don’t bounce, I’m pleasant…. However, the day in question was a bad day for me. I was angry that she talked me into having this filling replaced, I was angry that I now needed a root canal and a crown that would cost about $2500, I was in very bad pain, and I was rude. Yes, I was rude to her. I think I was crying as well. I know that there is no excuse for rudeness, and I’m sorry I was rude. But wouldn’t a dentist understand how someone feels when they have a tooth ache? Don’t they know how it hurts? I’m truly sorry I wasn’t happy and smiling and pleasant, but I felt like shit and I was mad.

When I came in to the office in October for my crown she wrote, “Patient is much more pleasant today.” So I guess she decided not to discharge me. I’ve been going to this office for about 3 years, and once I was rude. Once! I realize that she has the right to keep me or discharge me, she has the right to choose who her patients are, and I’m sure she doesn’t want unpleasant ones. I don’t really think I was so unpleasant that she would discharge me, but maybe I’m wrong about that.

When the dentist came in at the end of the appointment today she was so cheery and friendly, “How was your New Year’s? Did you party?” On and on (we had a very nice relationship prior to the filling)….I had just finished reading what she wrote about me and was not really in the mood to be friendly anymore, but I didn’t want her to think I’m unpleasant so I answered her questions, and asked her what she did on New Year’s Eve.

I felt so bad when I left. Logically I know that I was rude that day in August, that what she wrote in my chart is true, that she can discharge me for whatever reason she chooses. If she doesn’t like people with green eyes, she doesn’t have to treat people with green eyes. But if she discharged me because I have green eyes I don’t think I would be upset about it.

Today I was feeling badly about the whole blog issue and letting my therapist read it. It’s not like I don’t trust him, but now I’m going to feel bad telling him I don’t want him to read it. So I was thinking about that this morning, but I decided to call a friend (the one friend I have left) to ask her if she wanted to go to lunch since she always calls me and I was feeling guilty about never calling her, and she said she would love to go to lunch. I was planning on going shoe shopping, because I always reward myself after the dentist with a new pair of shoes, but then I just felt like shit. We had lunch, and that took my mind off of things for an hour or so, but then I didn’t have it in me to get some new shoes (and that’s saying something!) so I just came home.

I thought the wellbutrin is supposed to take care of stuff like this. Isn’t that why I’m taking it, so that I don’t feel things so sensitively? What is the point of putting up with the insomnia and the head buzzing if I still get upset so easily? And I know I’m too sensitive and I hold onto things too much and too long. And I know that logically this situation made perfect sense and I shouldn’t be upset about it, especially because it all turned out fine. So why am I still thinking about it? At least my teeth are clean.

Pdoc called me back at 7:00PM last night. He asked me what’s been going on and I explained everything to him. He said it sounds like my anxiety is getting out of control, and he doesn’t think the wellbutrin is contributing to my problems. We talked about klonopin and he called in an rx for me. Picked it up this morning on our way to our little vacation at the beach. I took one about 11AM and feel asleep in the car soon thereafter. Then I felt pretty good today, even though there are a lot of people here at the beach and lots going on. I just have to remember to breathe, and get away to my room when things get overloaded. It will be fine though.

Yesterday I read a little bit of my blog from last year. I’ve been writing this blog for about a year now, prior to that I handwrote in a journal. What’s disturbing is that last December I was talking about stuff in therapy that is exactly the same as what I’m talking about now. How discouraging! Have I made no progress? I read December through February’s posts, and I do think that I have made some progress in some areas, but seem to sliding backwards in others. I am working hard on overcoming the perfectionism, being less critical of myself, and trying to focus on my strengths and talents. It’s not always working, but a lot of times it is.

But the anxiety and the intrusive thoughts don’t seem to be diminished at all compared to what I was talking about to J last year at this time. I also find that last year I was spending a lot of time with friends, going out to lunch and dinner and having people over. I have been isolating myself for quite some time now, and I have basically one friend left that I talk to and see on a regular basis. So that is a step backward.

So I’ve made forward progress in one area, no progress in another area, and reverse progress in a third area. That is discouraging.

The other day during my therapy session we talked about my son’s therapist and how poorly he treated us. J asked me if there was anyone in my life who had previously treated me that way, and he specifically asked if my parents acted that way, to which I replied no they did not. They did not treat me the way my son’s therapist did, not at all. I had very loving parents. Maybe not the most emotionally forthcoming people, not huggy and kissy, but loving nonetheless.

I have no excuse for the way I am now. No childhood trauma, abuse, no lacking for anything. Never while I was a child, teenager, young adult, adult, anytime in my life, have I experienced anything traumatic in any way. I am so lucky. So so lucky. So why am I so screwed up? Why am I so untrusting, why can’t I get close to people?

I don’t know what is wrong with me, the brain tumor theory isn’t holding up here, unless it’s the slowest growing brain tumor ever. I could be written up in the New England Journal of Medicine if I’ve had a brain tumor since I was 5. Forty-four years. What explanation is left? That there is something wrong with me, with my personality, with the core of my being. I have no good excuse for being this way. I’m just bad.

Ever hear that expression “Insight is the booby prize”? I’ve been reading about this. I’ve been thinking about how therapy works, reading some books, looking at some websites….. Say you feel or behave in a certain way, and you look at your childhood and “A-ha!” you see where those thoughts or behaviors began. It’s nice to know. A reason for things is always good. But where do you go from there?

I came across this on a blog:

Unfortunately, simply learning these things about myself is not the out, the epiphany is not the reward, the cure. “Insight is the booby prize…” I’ve heard.

…the fact that I am bringing awareness to my back [pain], to this tension, where before there had been unawareness is major progress, I know. I know that nothing changes until something changes. It has to start with awareness. Then comes the desire for a different way.

I’ve been looking for healing for a while now, seeking out cures, fixes to this pain, tired of resigning to it day after day. However, armed with this new information, this new understanding, I know that all the therapies and drugs and treatments I have been going through to bring end to the back pain will be ineffective until I retrain my muscles to exist in a relaxed state. My body must learn a new natural state.

Oh, if only simply knowing were enough, but no, that’s not how the Universe is designed.

After the knowing comes the work. After the epiphany comes the effort.

Another good article:

Richard Stayton’s interview with “writer’s therapist” Dennis Palumbo is interesting:

Now, the thing about writers is that they’re so therapized. They’ve been in therapy for years, and they’ll lay out a lot of their family dynamics for me. But as I always say, “Insight’s the booby-prize of therapy.” That means change doesn’t come from insight. You need insight and awareness to understand what’s going on. But change comes from courage, the risk of challenging those meanings every day. If you’re someone who believes, for example, that if you get angry you’re a bad person, then you could have all the insight in the world as to where that comes from when you were a child. But every day you’re going to have to risk showing a little anger and seeing that people around you don’t fall over dead. And until you challenge that as an adult and go, “Wow, I got angry, and my loved ones still love me. Nobody thinks I’m a killer, and it doesn’t mean I’m a terrible person.” Until you challenge that in the here and now, you’re not gonna change.

Insight = The booby prize.
Breakthrough = What occurs when you take committed action on an insight.

It makes a lot of sense. I know that I don’t let people too close to me, I don’t like to bother people, I don’t like to ask for help. And these behaviors go way back to my childhood and I know the reasons. That’s great, but now what? I guess it’s true, now I need courage. I need to try to let people in, to bother people, to ask for help…and then see what happens. Maybe people won’t run screaming in horror, or maybe they will. But I won’t know unless I have the courage to take the risks.

I’m feeling very lethargic. I do my stuff around the house, I go to work and work diligently, but beyond that I can’t seem to do much. I’m sorry if I’m sounding lazy and blah. I had jotted down some thoughts earlier in the week to give me ideas of things to write about.

When I was in 9th or 10th grade I met someone who had just moved to my town and my school. She seemed intimidating to me – very outgoing, not caring what other people thought of her, tall like me, but she wore heels unlike me (actually we didn’t wear heels, what was popular in 1975 was these platform sandals):

I was intrigued by her and got to know her. We started to hang out a little, and one day she said she was tired. I asked her why and she said she couldn’t sleep the night before because she forgot how to breathe.

I was so taken aback. I couldn’t believe that there was someone else out there who could forget how to breathe. And not only forget how to breathe, but talk about it as though it was no big deal. I shared my experiences in forgetting how to breathe – always at night, alone in my bed, in the dark. I would become aware of my breathing, and then become so conscious of it that I would forget how to do it, which would lead to an anxiety attack. She said the same thing happened to her. As time went on I discovered she had some of the same anxieties as I did.

It was quite a relief to know that I wasn’t alone. And it was astounding to me that she could talk about it, I never could. I wish I knew why I didn’t feel like I could ever talk about these things. This haunts me.