Harriet M. Welch

I’m getting worried. I’ve noticed a pattern in my moods. About every three months or so I seem to slip into a really bad state of mind. The last one happened in May. I know it is silly to worry about something that may or may not happen, but on the other hand isn’t it good to know about this pattern so that perhaps I can avoid what might happen? I don’t know how to avoid it, but maybe by expecting it, it won’t be so bad?

I want to go back and reread my blog, but sometimes doing that makes me feel awful. I hate to read my own writing, especially when it is particularly emotional.

I’ve been watching the Bourne Identity every day (parts of it, actually.) I’m not sure if it is because of my state of mind, or because I didn’t have cable and had to watch what was on my Tivo. Although I do have cheery movies on the Tivo as well. Something about the Bourne Identity really affects me, even though after watching it a hundred times I still don’t understand some parts of it. But the Bourne Identity is a bad sign for me.

I’m worried.

Tags: anxiety, mood

Today I brought a printout of the conversation I had in my head last week to my t appointment. I gave J the background story – about my son, and his medical situation and the tests he needs and the blood test success story and the barium x-ray not so successful story. I told him about my son’s anxieties and phobias. Then he read the conversation with the voice in my head (VIMH).

While he was reading I was looking around. I noticed the Purell. When he was done I told him that he can use the Purell. Since I mentioned it three weeks ago he hasn’t used it when I come in. He said he can’t use it today and showed me two open blisters he had on his hands. He said he used it yesterday and Ouch! I said, but seriously, its fine that you use the Purell, I didn’t mean to make you stop using it. He said, it’s only been three weeks since you said anything, and I said, “And you haven’t used it in front of me since then.” He said he only uses it about twice a day, and wouldn’t you know since I am the first person he sees in the morning he has been doing paperwork and typing and feels his hands might be germy. I said, “So it has nothing to do with me, and the fact that I emanate germs and you have to disinfect when I walk in? Maybe you need a spray version of it so that you can get all the germs I give off.” He said, “Well, I do disinfect the couch before you come in.” And I said, “And after, too, I hope.”

Then we talked about the VIMH. He said it’s great that I wrote that all out, and that I gave this voice an entity. He said he knew about someone with an eating disorder, and she gave it a name. I said, “Ed?” He said, no that would be too obvious. “Nigel.” (??)

But giving the disorder a name had some purpose; I can’t remember what it is now. He said I should give the VIMH a name. I’ve been thinking about that, it would scare me to give it a name. It would have too much power if it had a name, wouldn’t it?

He said obviously no matter what I do, this voice will tell me it’s not enough. What if I see a turtle crossing the road and pick it up and put it in the grass and even give it a little bowl of water. The voice would say, what about all of the other turtles, why aren’t you taking care of them?

That reminded me of an article I read about a jellyfish. J and I had talked about jellyfish a few weeks ago. I asked if he heard about the big jellyfish in New Hampshire. He hadn’t. So I told him the story. A 40 pound jellyfish wandered in the water of New Hampshire, where this type of jellyfish doesn’t usually venture. It somehow died and broke apart, but the jellyfish tentacles can still sting even when they are not attached to the jellyfish body. That morning in New Hampshire 150 people got stung by the tentacles and five people had to go to the hospital.

So that was a little tangent.

Back to the VIMH. He talked about the validity of the real me vs the VIMH. He asked which one is more valid, and I said, “Logically, or which do I believe?” He thinks the real me is correct more often than the voice. We talked about times when the voice might be good, like if you have the impulse to do something bad or wrong and the voice tells you not to. But generally, the voice is incorrect, and operating out of lack of objective evidence.

He told me about the id, ego and super ego of Freud, and what each one does. He said my super ego is very harsh.

He asked what I ultimately decided – who is right, me or the voice? I said that I posted this on my blog and everyone says it is ok that I felt good about myself when I helped my son, and that I did help him. But I said that of course they all said that, they had to. They aren’t going to post mean things to me on my own blog. He went over the whole thing with me and told me that I did a good job and I should feel good about it. He asked if I think EMTs feel bad when they help people. It’s not like they sit around saying, “I hope we have a few good car accidents today.” I said, “Maybe they do. If they don’t have accidents they can lose their jobs.”

I told J that no matter what anyone said to me, I didn’t believe that I made things better for my son until I actually asked him and he said that the things I did were helpful.

I asked him how the voice got in my head, and he asked me how long it has been there. I have no idea. I asked what the voice gets out of saying mean things to me. I was thinking that it’s hard to be good all the time, there is so much pressure. But J was telling me about how it’s easy to get into a pattern of what you know, it is comfortable. Even if it is abusive. For example if a child is abused she may end up marrying someone abusive, because that is what she knows. I was confused about this part and what it had to do with the voice.

I asked him how to get the voice out of my head. I told him that I want to kill it. He asked what I meant by kill. Silence. I don’t think I answered.

He said rather than get rid of it, I need to make the “me” louder and the voice quieter. I asked how I do that. I’m drawing a blank here. I don’t know what happened. I don’t think I got an answer. I don’t think J knows the answer, and this happens week after week. He tells me I need to do something, but he doesn’t tell me how. I would like to make the VIMH quieter, but how?

He said it is like a bully, and it is very harsh and it has been making me feel bad about myself for a long time. And he told me how to stand up to a bully, but I can’t remember that now. He said I am smarter and stronger than the bully, and I said I don’t think I am, but he says I am.

He also asked me how my son was after the blood test and I told him how talkative he was, and how he is planning on taking some classes at the community college. This led to a whole discussion about how I am being supportive of him and making him feel good about himself, and how I can continue doing this. I told him that my husband made my son feel bad because he said to him, “Are you really going to go to classes? Are you really going to do your work?” And I thought it was a stupid thing to say, because my son finally got the motivation to think about school, it’s not like we are pushing him into it. And I think we need to be supportive and positive, and my husband was being very negative. J asked if I said anything to my husband about this, and I said no. He suggested talking to my husband and telling him we need to be united and present a supportive front. I told him it sounded very patronizing to me. I wouldn’t like it if he talked to me that way. I don’t plan to talk to my husband about this. Unfortunately my son now knows not to talk his father about his plans, because he’ll just be shot down. But the thought of talking to my husband as though he is a child isn’t appealing to me either.

So although we did a lot of talking today, I don’t feel that anything is resolved. This is continually happening. I know I need to change, and what needs to change, but I don’t know how to do it. And J doesn’t seem to be able to tell me how either. I’m starting to think “What’s the point?”

Tags: husband, son, therapy, vimh

Friday afternoon I got an IM from my son. He said, “I’m sorry i didn’t go, i built it up bigger in my head than it was and i was more scared than i was with the blood test, i don’t know why, but i was the one who convinced myself not to do it, not anyone else”

He deleted the facebook comment I made. He said his friend saw it and was angry and hurt about it. We talked about it, and decided that since he had copied and pasted me some things she said about his upcoming testing, that I had gotten it out of context and therefore it was a misunderstanding. I still think his friends weren’t particularly encouraging to him, but hey, they are teenagers and very young adults, all of whom are on the immature side. It’s a learning experience.

We talked about what he is going to say when he calls the doctor tomorrow. He’ll be talking to the doctor’s assistant, which is probably less threatening (the doctor is very very nice, but still…)

In the meantime, he is still having issues with nausea and vomiting. Not a pleasant way to live. I hope we can find a way out of this without too much anxiety. This house seems to be reverberating with anxiety.

Did I mention my husband’s anxiety? He throws up every morning when he is under stress. It’s more like really bad gagging, or dry heaves. This began when he started working for a law firm back in 1988. We didn’t know what was wrong with him and he had tons of tests (including the barium x-ray) and they couldn’t find anything wrong with him. We figure its anxiety. It comes and goes, usually lasts a couple of months at a time, and usually caused by stress at work, or money problems at home. It’s been really bad lately.

Tags: anxiety, husband, son

My son called the doctor today to check on the results of the blood work (he’s over 18 so I can’t do it for him!) He was so good, he typed out every word the doctor said and emailed it to me. Everything was normal.

Tomorrow is the barium xray. There isn’t anything I can do to help him with that one.

I asked him if he thought I made his anxiety worse by getting the lidocaine cream and the Xanax, and asking the tech if he could lay down, and all of the rest of it, etc. And he said, “No it helped.” The only thing he thought we could have done to improve it was if he had gotten dressed before I put on the cream. Having that cream with the plastic wrap and tape on both arms made it difficult to get his shirt on.

Will remember that in the future.

Tags: anxiety, medication, son

I texted my daughter yesterday while she was still at the horse show (she’s been there for 4 days!) to see how she did. This was her second day competing, and as you read yesterday it was a disaster on Saturday. But, it didn’t go much better yesterday. She said her horse (the horse she was riding, it is someone else’s horse) refused on its first trip, so she scratched the second trip and the under saddle. She also said she wasn’t feeling well, that she had a stomach ache and a sore throat. I told her she should come home, but she wanted to stay today, not to compete but to help out and watch her friends. She still isn’t home and it is after 7PM.

My son had his blood test today. I put on his lidocaine cream at noon, then covered it with plastic wrap and taped it down. The lab told me to do both arms. Then at 1PM I gave him 1mg of Xanax. Our appointment was at 2PM. He seemed to be doing ok, he doesn’t really show any outward signs of anxiety.

When we got called into the lab room I asked the tech if we could have a room where he could lie down, and she said, sure no problem. We went into another room. He sat on the bed (whatever you call that thing), but he wouldn’t lie down. He kept saying, “Wait, wait.” That’s what he always does, he says he’s not ready and we need to wait. He was crying too. We gave him some time to breathe and the tech explained everything; she said she was going to use a butterfly needle which is very, very thin. She did say, “It won’t hurt a bit” which is a total lie, but at least he knows that.

Finally I said, you are never going to be ready, take a breath and lie down. He took a breath and I pushed him back into a lying down position. I didn’t shove him, just pushed gently. The tech gave him two test tubes (plastic, I asked) to squeeze and with his other hand he squeezed my hand. He had his eyes tightly shut and he was crying and shaking, but she quickly put on the tourniquet. She said “On the count of 3 take a deep breath” which he did, and she put in the needle. She quickly drew two tubes of blood and got that needle out of there. It was over very quickly.

He laid on the table for a while, calming himself, then got up and we left. He was very quiet. I asked if he wanted a treat or something to eat and he said no. About a quarter of a mile away he said, “Can I get Burger King?” So I stopped there and he got some food.

Then, because he was so relieved to have it be over with, or because of the Xanax, he became very talkative. I mentioned that my mother in law said he told her that he is going to take a course at the community college in September, and he said, “Oh yeah, I need to sign up for that!” This was news to me. We talked about what courses he might like to take, and whether the bus goes there, and that his grandmother offered to take him a couple times a week. He was so talkative! I think he was really glad that it was over.

I told him he did great and that he should be proud of himself. And if he could do this, he can definitely do the barium x-ray, which is on Friday. At least that isn’t painful.

I’m so proud of him too. It was so hard for him, but he did it.

Tags: anxiety, daughter, son

Yesterday my husband and I went to see my daughter in a horse show. We rarely go, but this could be the last one before she leaves for college. She doesn’t particularly like us to be there, and she gets very nervous when people are watching her. There have been times when I have snuck unseen into horse shows to watch her without her knowing I am there.

We were talking with her coach and some other riders yesterday about how she needs a sports psychologist. She is a pretty good rider, not great, but ok, she doesn’t do rated shows, just local ones. But when she gets in front of a judge everything falls apart. She gets so worked up and tense and nervous. And when I am there it is one hundred times worse. Her coach was telling us how well she did in a show a couple of weeks ago, and the assistant said, “M says she does much better when people aren’t watching her.”

So this show was 1 hour and 45 minutes away, in another state, and of course she never knows what time she’ll be riding. These shows are so boring. First she said she would ride at about 9:30 or 10am, but she actually rode at 2pm. She was riding someone else’s horse, and he is a very good horse. When she was practicing, he did great.

Then it was time to go into the ring, and I said something really stupid. I don’t what got into me, perhaps I was trying to use humor to diffuse the situation, or maybe I was delirious from sitting in the 95 degree heat for 4 hours waiting for her. But I said, “Do good! I hope this will be worth it!” Meaning, worth it for me to travel all the way there and sit there waiting for so long. I know it was such a stupid thing to say.

Then she went into the ring and did terribly. Her horse refused a couple of times, and on her second course she forgot the course! That has never happened. She was riding around and she got to near where her coach was standing and said, “Where do I go?” Argh. Frankly, I can’t figure out how the riders remember the courses, and they have to do two courses, each in a different pattern. So I’m sure it is easy to forget, as a matter of fact the rider before her left off part of the course. But my daugher has never forgotten the course.

So needless to say it was awful, and she was very upset and wouldn’t talk. She did better in the under saddle (the non jumping part) and got a 4th place ribbon (I think there were 6 or 7 riders in the division).

Then we left. I felt so bad about my comment, and I told my friend about it who was there with her daughter. She said something like, “If we said the perfect thing all of the time we wouldn’t be real parents”. It just made me feel so badly because I know she is already under so much of her own pressure when she competes. I’ve tried to tell her that she doesn’t have to show, that she can just ride for pleasure, but she likes to go to shows. I think she likes the social aspect of it, and watching everyone else compete. She is normally a very confident, non-anxious person. This is the only time she has problems.

And tomorrow my son has his blood test at 2pm eastern time. Please send positive thoughts our way if you remember! We’re doing Emla cream to numb him, and xanax to sedate him. I called the lab to see if they have anyone experienced in dealing with people with phobias and they gave me the exact answer I knew they would, “Sure, everyone here!” Yeah, right.

Being a parent is hard sometimes.

Tags: anxiety, daughter, guilt, son

Yesterday I took my son to the doctor because he has been having GI problems. He is always nauseous, particularly after he eats, and he often throws up after he eats. I thought the doctor would just give him some medicine, but he wants him to have some blood work and a barium xray. This would not be a problem for most people, but my son (who is 20) has a terrible phobia of doctors and needles. Now he is deciding whether to have the blood test this week or next. He knows he doesn’t want it at all, but he is trying to decide whether to put it off a week, which means a lot of anxiety for a week, or get it over with. And a friend of his told him she had the barium xray and she is sure he won’t be able to do it, because he won’t be able to drink the stuff because it is gross. He gags just eating chicken. I feel very badly for him. He is eating less than usual; he normally eats just once a day. And he eats junk, and drinks a lot of soda. I think he has lost weight – at the office he weighed 125 with clothes and shoes, and he is six feet tall. The doctor said it could be a sluggish stomach, or h. pylori, or celiac disease, or crohn’s disease. Great choices? NOT. My son was asking me about it last night, and he seems very worried. I asked the doctor if I could give him some klonopin or xanax before the blood test and he said that would be fine.

Tomorrow I see the gynecologist. I’m trying to decide how much to tell him. Maybe I don’t even need to say anything; I’ll just go back to taking the birth control pills continuously without the week off. I’m hesitant to tell him anything that will make him think I’m unstable. For example in June, when I was having my period, and I got into that rage and was “organizing” my daughter’s junk in the garage and broke a bottle, then picked up a piece of the broken glass and cut my arm with it. I didn’t even tell my t about that. My gynecologist will most likely not be so understanding. But I do want him to know that I think that my hormone levels seem to be effecting my emotions, so maybe I’ll just tone it down a little and tell him I was throwing the broken glass into the recycling bin trying to smash it.

Meanwhile, I’ve been bleeding for 7 days now. That’s a long period for me. It’s not heavy or crampy, just ongoing. But I start a new pill pack tonight, so hopefully it will stop. I also developed a migraine yesterday morning, I was having some stress as a combination of work and my daughter’s car having repairs and arguing with the warranty company, and this headache goes away when I take my migraine meds, but comes back after about 4 or 5 hours. That was the original reason I stopped taking the week off the pills, because whenever I stopped for a week I would get a migraine.

Then I had a terrible run this morning. It was pouring rain, and 95% humidity, and my Achilles’ are just hurting me so bad. I think I really have to admit I have Achilles tendonitis, and I need to stop running for a while. I just don’t have time for physical therapy. I don’t know what I’ll do if I have to stop running.

I’m sorry this is whiney.

And this isn’t even everything – you wouldn’t believe what is happening at work.

But one good thing happened, my boss invited me to “movie night”, a weekly event he is having at his home for his sons and their friends. He has a home theater in the basement, complete with popcorn maker. So I brought a bottle of wine, and watched the movie “Serious Man” with boss, his two sons, and a few of their friends. Lots of testosterone in the room! It was a wonderful movie. One thing you can’t deny about the Coen brothers – they really know how to end a movie.

At first I wasn’t sure whether I would go, but I’m glad I did. It was fun.

Tags: gynecologist, hormones, running, son, work

Something has been bothering me for a while. When I go to my therapy appointments, I sit in the waiting room (for about 15 seconds since I get there right on time) and then J opens his office door, looks in the waiting room, says hi, I get up and walk into his office while he stands by the door, I sit down, he closes the door, then he walks over to his desk and Purells (using that as a verb, as in pushes down the pump top on the purell bottle and rubs it on his hands). Then he comes over to his chair and sits down.

At first I wasn’t sure if this was lotion or Purell, but a while ago I took a look next to his computer and saw that it is indeed Purell. I am wondering why he feels the need to Purell himself after I walk into the room. My first thought is that I am so gross that I emanate germs just walking by him and he needs to antibacterialize himself right away. Then I think maybe he thinks there are germs on the doorknob that he just touched to open the door to let me in. But I am the first client, so where would the germs on the doorknob have come from? The only person touching the doorknob since he left the previous evening would be him. Plus germs don’t live that long on doorknobs.

So I am back to the being totally gross theory. This is why I am in therapy I suppose. Because when someone Purells in my vicinity I think it might be because I am disgusting. Does that make me a narcissist? Thinking whatever anyone does must have something to do with me? I just want these crazy thoughts to stop, is that too much to ask?

Tags: purell, therapy

Remember that from Saturday Night Live? “I’m Chevy Chase and you’re not.” We thought that was hilarious.

Anyway….

Update #1 – Party and Cake

I went to the party, I brought the cake. I couldn’t stop myself from mentioning that I didn’t think it came out as pretty as it usually does due to the hot day, blah blah blah. People ate it, people said it was good. There was about half of it left (there were lots of desserts) so I doled it out and people took some home. One person commented on my Facebook today that it was very good cake and it was excellent breakfast food.

Want to hear the primary reason why I brought the cake to the party? It is going to sound silly, so if you are not in the mood for dumb then you should close out of this page right now.

Still here?

OK, you have been warned.

I thought if I brought the cake to the party I would be able to tell J on Tuesday that I did it. I brought a less than perfect cake to a party where I didn’t know half the people very well, and I didn’t know the other half at all. I thought he would be proud of me. So after subjecting myself to this experience, he sure as hell better say something good to me when I tell him the story on Tuesday.

As for the party and the people. It was great to see the Mississippi people again, and they seemed happy to see me. This was the first time they’ve seen me looking normal – makeup, hair, nice clothes. But you know what, I bet it wouldn’t have mattered how I looked. They are just nice people. Methodists, you know. Any of my readers Methodist?

The spouses were nice too. Dan, a very good looking, friendly, dare I say flirtatious, guy who I got along very well with in Mississippi, brought his wife. She wasn’t so friendly. Maybe she is shy. At one point he asked her to come into the TV room to watch the slideshow I made and she said, “I’m talking, maybe later.” And he made a comment about being blatantly shot down. I felt kind of bad for him. They had taken two cars and she left early. Maybe she wasn’t feeling well.

All in all, very fun. Lots of wine, lots of food. I would love to hang out with these people again.

Update #2 – Son’s Therapist

I had emailed him Thursday morning at 9:30am. He emailed me back at 1:30pm Friday, a very short email saying to call him at the office or on his cell. I called the office, got the voice mail and left a message. Then I called the cell phone and he picked up immediately. He knew it was me and he said, “Hey Harriet, can I call you back in 15 minutes.”

That was the last I heard from him – yesterday at 2pm.

This is typical, totally brings back all of the feelings from the days when we were seeing him weekly. Ugh.

Tags: cake, friends, son's therapist

The cake didn’t come out very good. I don’t like the way it looks. The frosting isn’t fluffy enough, and therefore not thick enough. I’m so tempted to throw it away and either leave work and spend the day making a new one, or just not go. Or buy one at a bakery and lie and say I made it.

But I’m trying to accept that this cake is good enough. It’s hard because the cake has been built up to be this super extraordinary masterpiece due to all the talk of it on facebook. And they saw the pictures of the one I made for Mother’s Day, which looked really beautiful. This one looks somewhat sad.

I’m really trying. It would normally be impossible for me to show up at a party, especially with people I hardly know, with anything less than perfect. But I’m really trying to believe that it is good enough and that they don’t really care.

Tags: anxiety, cake, good enough