notokinthehead











{October 20, 2013}   When Help is 1,749 Miles Away

My psychotherapist, JB, has taken a job in Puerto Rico, 1,749 miles away. She will continue to “see” me via phone, Skype and/or email. I guess it’s a temporary job for only five or six months and then she’s coming back to continue her private practice here. I wish her nothing but luck and happiness. I can imagine how burnt out one can get being a psychotherapist.

Now for the selfish side of me: JB couldn’t have taken this job at a worse time! It’s mid-October and my anxiety and depression increases three-fold throughout the winter months. Yes she gave me referrals in case I feel the need to contact a counselor to have face-to-face sessions with while she’s gone but I’ve been seeing JB off and on for ten years, a new counselor won’t get it. JB does. I don’t have the patience to train a new counselor so they know what is and isn’t off-limits and I don’t have the mental ability to retell my story to a new counselor.

Maybe that’s the problem. I’ve become too comfortable with JB and it’s more like a friendship than a client/counselor relationship. Maybe she respects my boundaries a little too much because she knows how defensive and angry I get. Maybe having another counselor on the side would be beneficial for treatment. Maybe a kind of good cop/bad cop thing wouldn’t be a bad idea. JB is the good cop and another, new counselor can be the bad cop.

Maybe I’m completely overreacting by hitting the panic button so soon.

panic-alarm-button-buy-one-get-one-free

 



{March 12, 2013}   Today’s Garb

Another new shirt. It’s white, black, blue, gray and yellow. It’s super comfy in the way that it’s so light, it feels like I’m almost naked. It’s also very obviously a boy’s shirt. I asked my Mother what she thought of it and, with a twisted face, she said it looked nice.

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Physical Therapy was super painful today. Too much of her touching my painful spots and aggravating already very angry muscle spasms. My favorite part is when she sits behind me and, using the entire surface if her hands, gently pushes against the spasming muscles. It’s calming. You could probably dig deeper and say I like any positive touching because I have very little to no human contact that isn’t negative or me helping someone else. I think positive human contact is important to have. Sometimes getting that is next to impossible.



{March 7, 2013}   Boys Have The Best Clothes

There is definitely a plaid pattern going on in my wardrobe now. This shirt is from the boy’s section in TJMAXX. Being it’s freezing cold and snowy out-and I have an appointment to go to- I put a navy blue long John shirt under it.

I haven’t seen my psychotherapist in about a month now. This should be interesting… wonder if she’ll give me shit for my hand? Check out the new half cast and awesome buddy taping of my two fingers.

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{February 22, 2013}   She’s Come Undone

Not only have  I been slacking off with my training and missing important meetings, but I just dropped out of physical therapy and dyed my hair a strange red. Tomorrow I’m taking Stubby back to his previous home. Tonight I’m going to a different state to go to a bar and people watch… maybe even have some fun? I won’t be having any more than a few beers because I’ll have a two hour drive . I’m also picking up a couple of people on the way, so I’ll be responsible for their drunk asses too.

I’m taking a break from my therapist too, but I wonder what she would have to say? I almost think she would cheer me on, but if not maybe she would suggest that I’m unhappy with something in my mind or feeling like something is out of my control, so I’m becoming a control freak with what I can control. Like my hair color and what I do. You know, that might not be too far from the truth.

Til I figure it out I’m going to try to enjoy myself as I unravel.



{February 20, 2013}   Status: Soon-To-Be Cat Lady

Guess who came home with me when I finished house sitting? That cute, loving, adorable cat, Stubby:

Stubby

Stubby stealing my heating pad and burying his head under my butt.

His name is Stubby because he’s a Maine Coon Cat and the breeders cut his tail off to a little stub when he was a tiny kitten. I think that’s cruel, myself. But it’s cute because his little stub does a little wiggle. He and Babe are trying to establish the Alpha at this point so they’re not really getting along. It seems they decide to fight most in the middle of the night when they both want to be in bed with me… ugh.

My little “relaxing” weekend didn’t go as planned. It was still relaxing, though. I didn’t read as much as I had planned to read… because I spent most of the weekend watching the full seasons of The L Word on my Kindle. So it was still a good weekend.

On Sunday we had three first alarms, two of them at the same time. All turned out to be simple calls, but it made for a hectic afternoon and evening. Since my lazy weekend I’ve had trouble getting my ass in gear. I went to physical therapy on Monday and it killed me. I haven’t been to any calls since then and I feigned a headache to skip out on my meeting at the hospital last night. I have a feeling my EMS coordinator is probably going to give me a hard time the next time I do show up but even that isn’t enough motivation for me to get my shit together. I get the feeling that I’m really screwing up. To top it all off, I lost my insurance so I’m quitting physical therapy ($210/week). Another issue with physical therapy is I’m very attracted to my physical therapist and we all know how that ended for me last time. Maybe I have a weird fetish for PT’s? All I know is I both can’t stand to spend those two hours per week with her and I can’t wait until the next appointment. Sigh.

Tonight I have enough motivation to go play some board and card games. Maybe it’s just responsibility that I’m having a hard time grasping right now?

 



{February 5, 2013}   Treating Myself= Things Go Wrong

I treated myself to a Black Widow .22 Mag this morning. Nice, small and concealable. It will probably become my carry gun in place of my bulky .9mm Glock.

Black Widow .22

I was (am still) pretty excited about it. But when I arrived home from my Uncle’s birthday party this evening two of my brothers and my parents were sitting around the kitchen table. My Mother was unhappy with me because I mentioned to one of my brothers that she was smoking again. My other brother was mad at me because I mentioned (for the first time!) that he owes me $400.00 for putting oil in his tank because he was flat broke. He stormed out of the house. My Father was mad at me because simply by walking in I managed to cause all of that drama. I wish that I hadn’t bothered to come home tonight until my parents were in bed and no one was around.

I begin physical therapy again tomorrow. My heart is not in it at all.

Today’s song:



{October 26, 2012}   It’s All The Same To Me

I had a short meeting with my therapist today. It was basically to sign a release of information and give the go-ahead on sending my file to my lawyer. We have gone through several of my old journals which she has kept locked away in storage to find entries proving my “insanity”, for lack of a better word. I don’t think I’m really insane. Anyway, she commented on how by reading through my old journals she can see how I’ve been getting better. Of course I kind of agreed. But now I’ve had time to think about it. Thinking makes me my own worst enemy.

I’m still self-destructive, physically and emotionally. I’m still a ticking time bomb, ready to lash out at anyone who angers me. I still stay in the house as much as possible… I don’t want to go out. For better or worse I have less friends and acquaintances than I’ve ever had. I still struggle for every minute of sleep I can grasp. I still do not get along with my mother. And I’m still ‘clingy’ to anyone who will accept me. So really, it’s all the same to me. It is true that I’m functioning on a higher level, ie- the fire department & rescue, but the bad feelings, the paranoia, the depression and the total lack of interest in almost everything is there. My back is still fucked up. My head is still fucked up. My shoulder is still fucked up. I’m fucked up.

Okay I’m done reflecting.

I’m getting nervous, excited and anxious for my hair cut tonight! It’s going to be so different. I’m looking forward most to the shock on people’s faces. I want this for me, but at the same time it symbolizes flipping the bird to everyone who is still denying my truth- that I’m a lesbian. Fuck you! Only I could never say that and hope to keep my face in the same shape it’s in now. After all, it’s not their truth to be in denial about! It’s my truth and I’m done trying to ignore it or deny it. It’s who I am. Take me or leave me, just don’t pretend I’m something I’m not. Of course there is also hope that by cutting my hair super-super short guys will leave me alone, stop hitting on me, stop saying vulgar things to me in hopes of getting me into bed. I’m done with men… I’m done with my denial.

So this hair cut symbolizes a lot for me. I can’t wait!

Practical reasons to cut my hair:

  • When my pager goes off in the middle of the night, I have to roll out of bed, down the stairs and into my truck. There’s no time to fuss with my hair. And patients don’t appreciate your hair falling into their face. Well, most of them don’t anyway.
  • Ever tried wearing a fire helmet with a ponytail? It’s painful. Ever tried wearing a fire helmet and SCBA (air mask/tank) with your hair down in your face? It’s literally deadly. And annoying.
  • Having no hair will cut my preparation time by about twenty minutes each day. That’s twenty more minutes of sleep I can get!
  • Ever had a dog who thought your hair was a toy to play tug-of-war with? The dog is the only one who enjoys it.

So to all those who insist that I’m just going through a phase, that everyone experiments with relationships…

FUCK YOU.



{October 23, 2012}   It Was Tense

I saw my Osteopath today. It was tense, to say the least. She continued lecturing me about my eating habits and insists that I continue to keep a food journal and give it to her when I see her again in two weeks. That I can let go in one ear and out the other and do what she asks for the sake of my back. However… when I went to check out I noticed in large letters on the bottom of the check-out sheet she gave me: #1. Major Depressive, #2. Anorexia. There was an explosion in my head. I felt like I’d been talking to a wall when I spoke to her. I felt like she didn’t listen to anything I said, and instead just made her own assumptions. I feel kind of bullied. Being bullied is not going to make me change who I am, in fact I know myself well enough to know that it will just make me rebel.

I ended up calling my therapist because I was so bothered. She’s probably right, I shouldn’t dwell on it and I should really try not let it bother me so much. I’ll see my therapist on Friday again and she said she’ll have me sign a release so she can call and speak with my Osteopath. Hopefully, she can convince my Osteopath that we’re working on whatever problem she seems to think I have and my Osteopath can go back to helping me with my back, and only my back.

I was so upset about my appointment with my Osteopath that I came home and crawled into bed. I stayed there for six and a half hours, dozing on and off. I’m still exhausted, but I think it’s more emotional than anything.

I did have a chat online with Adam tonight. Here’s how it went:

ADAM: do you enjoy spending time with me?

ME: Yeah, I like hanging out with you.

ADAM: do you want to see another movie with me?

ME: I would like to see another movie with you. As a friend. I’m not ready for a relationship & I don’t have the time to devote to one.

ADAM: i understand completely. i just wanted to make sure that i’m not being a bother. to you. so from now on we’ll leave movies up to that day so we can’t cancel plans if they haven’t been made 🙂

(His grammar sucks, I know) That went much better than I expected. I’m too accustomed to guys wanting it all or nothing at all. I can tell that he’s still hoping for more, but I don’t think that’s my problem. I drew the boundary and that’s all I can do.



{October 22, 2012}   Explosive Aches

I got up this morning and ended up going right back to bed my back and entire body ached so. It didn’t last long though, I ended up with both of the kids, and they were both miserable. The girl was just down-right miserable and argued about everything, and the boy was just blatantly disrespectful and mean. I ended up losing my temper and throwing the cigarette rolling machine across the kitchen (the kids were not in the room) and leaving them with my mother while I went and hid in my room. I was seething right up until my pager went off for an eighty-five year old male with a terminal illness (cancer) and difficulty breathing. When my pager goes off, I go away, I leave myself and become someone else entirely. After the call I was able to hang out with my partner at the station for a little bit. My partner is a pretty amazing guy. Something about him is so calming and reassuring. He ‘grounds’ me, brings me back around and puts a lid on my boiling rage. He’s like another brother or Dad to me. Only the blood-family dynamic isn’t there, which is probably why it works so well.

I wish I could find a way to tame my anger, keep my temper in control. I see my therapist tomorrow so maybe I can try to work on that a little. I also see my Osteopathic Doctor tomorrow, hopefully she can help me out with this pain. It’s exhausting.



We just had a 4.6 magnitude earthquake while I was at my EMS meeting. The funny thing is every EMT and Paramedic in the Valley were in that room with me. I don’t believe there was any damage other than a small gas leak. 4.6 mag is huge for this area. Usually we have small quakes that we can’t even feel but this one made my speakers jump off my computer desk and my votive candles bail off my TV, and now those are in pieces within the cylinder of a shop-vac.

Anyway, I’m glad I went to the meeting tonight. I actually enjoyed it and as always, my EMT partner was a joy to be with. My day has turned around drastically and I’m so glad. I still feel guilty about my attitude this morning, but I know that therapists are trained to deal with it and not take it personally. I’ll get over it.



et cetera