Harriet M. Welch

J asked what we are talking about. I said, well, whatever. He said he would like to talk about my email from three weeks ago, since last week I talked about wanting to talk about that. Unless something happened this week that I would prefer to talk about. I said nothing happened this week, but in his email to me last week he said he wanted to talk about my thoughts that he is sick of me and frustrated with me. He said he didn’t remember what was in his email to me last week. I said, well, you said you wanted to discuss this particular item, and the reason I wrote about it was because I thought I did a good job reframing my thoughts and I wanted to let you know that. But then you said you wanted to discuss it and it made me anxious all week and I was wondering why you chose that item as something to discuss. He really couldn’t remember any of this, so he went to his computer to see what he had written. He claims that this particular item stood out for him because it was larger than the other items since I wrote it in list form rather than paragraph form. Oh.

How could I get so anxious about something, and he doesn’t remember saying it at all?

We did discuss how when someone makes a comment or remark to me I tend to believe it and think that they are judging me and then I hold onto these thoughts and this leads to feeling bad about myself. We’ve had this conversation before, about 99 times before. What it comes down to is knowing something intellectually, but not being able to feel it. I asked him how I do this. He doesn’t know. He tried to come up with an answer. He said if I think logically about things eventually the logic will win out. That kind of sucks as an answer, but maybe that’s the way things work.

Then he asked me if he could tell me about a personal situation he encountered last week, that had to do with this type of logical thinking. I said sure, I’m always happy to talk about the other person rather than myself. He told me his story, and we talked about it for a while, and it was so much better than talking about myself. I wish we could talk about him every week. He was still talking about it when I got up to leave.

I didn’t tell him about the cutting, or the suicidal ideation, or the constant feeling of hating myself. Maybe I’ll tell him that next week.

I talked to my sister yesterday, and she told me that the reason my mother doesn’t want to come to lunch with us on Friday is because she doesn’t want to drive an hour to my house with my sister’s friend because she doesn’t feel comfortable with her. I didn’t quite believe that. I talked to my mother today and she said she isn’t meet us on Friday because we “young girls” don’t need an “old lady” like her hanging out with us. I told her that we would enjoy having an old lady like her with us. I said, “I thought you didn’t feel comfortable driving here with L.” She said, “No, I never said that, that’s not a problem.”

My aunt called me and told me that my mother called her and told her she isn’t going to my cousin’s wedding. My aunt says she doesn’t believe the reason my mother gave, she wishes she knew the true reason why my mother isn’t going. I know the true reason, but I’m not telling my aunt. I don’t want to get caught in the middle between the two of them.

Then I had to call my insurance company. We switched to a new provider on January 1st, and I checked my claims online and saw that they didn’t pay for my last three therapy sessions. So I called them and they said I needed to get these pre-authorized. They said they could do that on the phone, but they needed to ask me a couple of questions, that I didn’t have to answer if I didn’t want to. The first was if in the last two months I have drank too much or taken drugs. The second was if in the last week I felt like hurting myself. Huh? Who the hell would answer yes to these questions? And if you choose not to answer isn’t that just like answering yes? I lied. Well, the first question I told the truth, I haven’t drank too much or taken drugs. Not illegal drugs anyway. And prescribed drugs are ok, I’m assuming. But I did lie about the second question.

Everybody lies, and you never know who is lying, and who is telling the truth, and what the truth really is. That’s life.

I told my husband that I hate this new insurance company and they would only approve 10 visits of therapy, and then the therapist has to apply for more visits for me. Huh? I’m not going to ask him to do that. I told my husband that they were asking me intrusive questions that were none of their business and we are just going to pay out of pocket once the 10 visits are up. With the amount of money we spend on insurance every year (we pay for our own insurance) I don’t feel like I have to justify my therapy to them. So there.

Tomorrow morning is my meeting with Mr. IRS Seal. I don’t know what to wear. All of my business-y type clothes are too big. I’m anxious about the meeting, and I’m anxious about what to wear.

I’m still cutting. It’s like a compulsion now, I have to do this almost every day. I wrote that post yesterday about thinking rationally and logically about what is going on, but once again, although I know these things intellectually, I can’t feel them. I can’t feel better about myself. It’s just really hard.

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.

It was really bad today. I actually wasn’t very anxious yesterday or this morning like I usually am before therapy, because of the email I sent J last week. I knew there was enough material in there to take us through at least two or three sessions, so I was off the hook as to coming up with something to talk about. But when I got there he asked me “What are we talking about?” I mentioned the email. I can’t remember what he said, but he blew that off. Softened the blow by telling me again that it was perfect. But no talking about the email today! Too bad for you!

Remember how I wrote a couple of days ago about not being resilient? This is another example. When I have something planned out and I’m expecting it to be a certain way, and then it doesn’t go that way, I’m floundering. I can’t regroup and go the new way. So for the next 45 minutes I was not all there. I know I definitely zoned out a few times – it’s amazing how easily that happens in therapy. It never happens in real life. Plus somehow we got onto one of my least favorite subjects – weight and eating. Combined with another of my least favorite subjects – putting myself down and not thinking positive thoughts about myself.

I don’t really remember much of what was said, except that I need to think more positive things about myself, which I don’t know how to do, and not focus so much on the negative things. I know I used the phrase “going to hell in a handbasket” which I can honestly say that I have never said before in my life and I don’t even know what it means. Microsoft doesn’t even think handbasket is a word.

I wish I could have a do-over.

J said he thought he would have gotten an email from me with my blog address. Oh yeah, like that is an easy decision to make. But I think I’ll give it to him, what the hell. I made some old blog entries password protected, and I’m not sure what I’ll do about future ones, but I’ll figure that out when it happens. And if it’s a disaster I’ll just start a new blog, although I’ll miss Harriet. I think this deserves two pairs of shoes, since I never did buy shoes after my dentist appointment last week when I found out I’m not a perfect patient.

I wish I knew the name for the feeling I get after therapy sessions like this. I’ve gotten this feeling many times in the past year, usually when talking about body image, or finding positive things about myself, or maybe when a session doesn’t go the way I’d like it to, or if it’s something we’ve talked about so many times before without the issue ever getting better. I have my list of feelings words and it’s kind of a combination of:

Upset
Disappointed
Discouraged
Perplexed
Distrustful
Uneasy
Alone
Useless
Frustrated
Dejected

Is there a word for all of that? Maybe fucked up would do. That’s how I felt today. When I left I felt that feeling and I drove around, then had lunch, then walked around, went into Barnes and Noble but couldn’t concentrate on anything, walked around some more, bought cupcakes for my kids at a bakery and came home. Sandra Lee was calling my name. Remember I went through that Apple-tini phase until I ran out of Apple Brandy? Now I have another Sandra Lee recipe using tequila, pomegranate juice and lime juice. Pom juice is really healthy.

And I’ve been thinking about the 16 year old who called the Lifeline on Sunday and told me that he is being picked on at school because he’s gay. That really sucks. We talked for a while and I think he decided to talk to his guidance counselor because he said he trusts her. He lives with his dad who doesn’t know he’s gay, and he doesn’t have a relationship with his mom. I asked him what he does at lunch, and he said he sits alone. Every day. How can no one care about this kid?

I was listening to John Prine in the car earlier. I like these lyrics:

Make me an angel that flies from Montgomery
Make me a poster of an old rodeo
Just give me one thing that I can hold on to
To believe in this living is just a hard way to go

Yep, it’s a hard way to go. And tomorrow is the 13th – four more months until my birthday.

When I went to my therapy session on Tuesday I was not liking J very much. I was doing a lot of projecting and after our session last week I felt that he was minimizing my issues, and being judgmental. That is projection, right? But I’m glad I didn’t say anything this week, because he was very nice. Maybe he really was minimizing my issues and being judgmental last week, and he knew it, so he deliberately tried not to be this week? Or maybe it was just me. I never know.

He started things out by saying he wanted to talk more about my disclosure from two weeks ago. We talked about that and I tried to explain more about it, but it was hard to explain and I even told him it was hard to explain, and he said it was ok. But it came down to me feeling like I have an evil part of me, that I have kept hidden from everyone, and the reason people like me is because they don’t know about the evil part. And I’ve tried really hard over the last 30 or 40 years to not act on the evil stuff, to keep it all as thoughts but not actions. But it’s hard work sometimes.

J said it’s admirable that I have been able to function for so long despite having these intrusive thoughts and urges. Not sure if he was being sarcastic. He also kind of laughed at the issue and then apologized and said it’s in his nature to be light-hearted. Hmmm…..

He asked me if anyone else thinks I’m evil, and said that no because they don’t know about this part of me. He said that he knows about it and he doesn’t think I’m evil. He thinks I’m a regular, decent, nice human being. He said that is his objective opinion, and I said, “Your judgment?” See, therapists do have to make judgments.

J asked me what the payoff is in thinking I’m bad. I couldn’t really think of one, and I don’t think there are any payoffs to having intrusive thoughts and thinking oneself is evil. He said, “Well if you know you are bad you don’t have to work hard to be good.” I replied, “I do work hard to be good, so that theory doesn’t hold water.” I still don’t believe there is a payoff.

He said I often say, “Is that bad?” when I say I did something, and that I seem to always have a battle between being good and bad. He asked what would happen if I didn’t try so hard to prevent the evil stuff from actually happening. I don’t know what would happen, I obviously have never tried.

At the end he said that we can’t control our thoughts but we can do thought inserting. He said, “don’t think about a zebra” and I thought about a zebra. Then he said, “think about a dozen roses” and then I didn’t think about the zebra anymore. I guess I need to think more about zebras and roses, and then I won’t have intrusive thoughts? Except when he told me to think about the roses I had some visions of thorns and the damage they can do. Why would I immediately focus on the thorns rather than the flowers?

And during this whole discussion J told about 10 stories. He is always telling me hypothetical or theoretical stories, and I remember the stories but I can’t remember the purpose of them. For example this week he told me about:

A recovering alcoholic working as a bartender, vs someone who doesn’t drink working as a bartender

A friend who was very rigid in raising his own kids, but is very lenient with his grandchildren

A guy he knew 15 years ago who was 75 years old and has probably passed away by now and I don’t remember anything else he said about this guy

A man yelling at his wife in public and people likely thinking “he is a jerk” when actually no one knows what kind of relationship they have and perhaps they have been married for 30 years and get along really well

People like to sky dive and ride rollercoasters because they want to feel close to death but in a controlled environment.

We were talking about something I don’t remember and he said, “We could get really deep here.”

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.

….or I’d be dead by now. I started calling pdoc at 4:31PM yesterday, but they close at 4:30PM. I tried at 8:15AM, but they don’t open until 8:30AM. I called at 8:45AM and talked to the office manager, told her I wasn’t feeling well and that I thought I need a prescription for klonopin. She asked if I would like the pdoc to call me back, and I said yes. It is now 4:45PM and he hasn’t called. I did take one of my son’s valium at 11AM, and that seemed to do something for me. I have a lot of those, my son takes them when he gets his teeth cleaned, which he does about three times a year, and his dentist gave us a prescription for 25 of them. So we have extra. Still don’t want to dip into my klonopin stash. It’s so irrational.

I’m anxious about therapy tomorrow, and about going to the beach on Thursday with DH’s family for four days. I know it will be fun, but they don’t understand two important things:

1. Food issues
2. People needing to be by themselves for a little while

Other than that, it should be fine. Ugh.

I think I know why I’m so fascinated by Jason Bourne lately. Warning – if you haven’t seen the Bourne movies don’t read any further because I give away the ending.

It’s the good vs. evil conundrum, which I have been thinking about a lot lately as you know. Jason Bourne wakes up from being unconscious with bullets in his back and he doesn’t remember anything, except how to read, write, do math, speak at least 5 languages, walk, make coffee, tie knots, load and unload bullets into guns, shoot guns, and lots of martial arts. That’s more than most people know I guess, but for him it’s not enough. He wants to know who he is. As he discovers his talents he begins to wonder what in the hell kind of life he led. He recognizes that it’s not normal to know these things, that’s another thing he remembers – what normal is. He wants to get close to people, he feels protective of people, yet he has a feeling that he isn’t such a good guy. As flashbacks of his past occur he is dismayed to learn that he did some bad stuff. He knows he did those things, and he knows he doesn’t want to do them anymore, because he is a good guy. He knows he is a good guy, despite the bad things.

By the time we get to the third movie, 6 hours later, we find out that he was brainwashed into doing these evil things. He did volunteer, but without full knowledge of what the job entailed. And then he was pissed off, in a big way. However, he is aware, despite the fact that he was brainwashed, that he did do these evil things and he is very remorseful. As far as I know there were only three Bourne books, so that is the end of Jason Bourne. A good man, with lots of dead bodies along the way.

So my therapist, J, has been talking about mindfulness a lot lately. Mindfulness sounds so nice, doesn’t it? I imagine Buddhist monks sitting around quietly being mindful. So peaceful. Yeah, I wish.

My problem is the voices in my head. Well, they are not really voices, they are more like images. Not necessarily moving images like a movie, but maybe those old fashioned movies where one image after another flashes by. And those images enter my head when my head is not busy thinking about something else. So if I am thinking about whether or not I turned off the straightening iron and ruminating on this for awhile my brain is nicely busy. You may think it’s not good to wonder all day if I turned off the straightening iron, however it is better than the alternative.

When I try to empty my mind and just enjoy the moment, that’s when bad things happen. Those images start, and they are bad ones. I know the Mindfulness experts say, “Thoughts will enter your mind, you can’t stop them. But you should just acknowledge them without judgment, and then gently bring your mind back to the present moment.” OK, you Mindfulness experts – tell me exactly how to do that. Without judgment? That might be possible for normal people, who might have a thought enter their mind like, “Don’t forget to pick up the dry cleaning.” I think I’d be fairly non-judgmental about that thought. But there are certain thoughts and images, very very bad ones, violent, horrendous ones, and then it’s not so easy. Yes I can acknowledge them, no problem. Without judgment? No way. And gently bring my mind back to the present moment? You’ve got to be kidding. I am now in the midst of a panic attack due to the these images that are now in my mind because of the damn mindfulness. Thanks a lot.

I heard about a book the other day, it is called something like Get Out of Your Mind and Get Into Your Life. Wow, that sounds like something I’d like to do. But before I could buy it I had to do the research on it, because I am sick of self help books that say do x, y, and z, but don’t tell you how to do x, y, and z. So in reading the reviews and the sample of the book that I downloaded onto my Kindle, I learned that one of the basic premises of this book is that our thoughts and feelings are a product of our mind, they are not US. Huh? That has got to be one of the stupidest things I’ve ever heard. It doesn’t even make any sense. Our mind is US, my mind is ME, and whatever my mind thinks or feels is ME. So I didn’t buy the book.

I think I mentioned to J last week that I thought that mindfulness works best for people who have good control of their thoughts. He mentioned the word “medication” and I went somewhere. Not physically, but I guess I zoned out or something because I have no idea what transpired after that. I hate when that happens, because maybe he said something worth listening to. Although if it involved medication then probably not.

I have used mindfulness to ground myself if I am in the midst of an anxiety attack. I used to use it a lot when I flew, because I was a fearful flyer. I would look at the seat in front of me, and check out the fibers, and how they are woven together, and whether they are frayed, and what colors are in them. I got to know a lot about airline seat fabrics. I hate the leather seats, nothing interesting to look at there. So it’s not that mindfulness doesn’t have a place, and it’s not that it does nothing for me. I just don’t think that it’s for someone whose mind does crazy things like mine does.

Although those Buddhist monks certainly look peaceful.