Well, I was a mess in therapy.
Couldn’t even put a number on the distress a distressing memory caused me because the cause of that distress is the “intentionally cruel and punitive” way a mental health professional treated me (their words) and their brainwashing that I wasn’t feeling what I was feeling…leaving me unable to trust myself or mental health professionals.
Yes I am aware how ridiculous, circular and inescapable that all is.
Eventually cried for the first time ever in therapy after agonising over that in silence and realising how futile this all is; managed to garble that all out at poor therapist eventually. She is very validating and kind.
She suggested a type of trauma therapy called EMDR but said that I need to stabilise a bit first…trouble is, I need to be able to participate therapy and a huge part of the (now I realise) PTSD is about/causing me to not be able to accept the help needed to do that.
Therapist asked what I needed from our final few minutes together. I just shook my head, blindly, sighing, tears trickling. She suggested that this was too overwhelming – that I should talk to interim care co about it (don’t know if I can/if it would be useful considering my difficulties and how recently we met) – and we should just arrange the next session, which we did.
End of session arrived. Therapist said I was very brave to hand in the PTSD assessment under those circumstances.
An hour til my mum could pick me up and still unable to use public transport…plan was to go to the nearby cafe. But I was such a mess that I needed to sit down outside the mental health centre and compose myself first.
At which point another patient ran out from the building, sitting in the middle of the very busy road. Cue police, ambulance and general chaos hemming me in. The situation was dealt with, the patient’s safety was re-established, and the emergency services left. Now I was less composed than when I’d first sat down.
I began to try to recompose myself again, only to have a staff member from the psych ward approach me to ask if I was OK and what had been going on…she’d been getting her hair cut and saw the commotion.
Eventually I dragged myself to the cafe only to find it unexpectedly closed…excellent. Just my luck! I seriously considered just continuing to sit outside in the rain bit was desperate for a wee so had to toddle off to find a supermarket, relieve myself and grab a quick coffee to justify my use of their facilities before collapsing once again, overwhelmed by everything.
My head really hurts. I’m so drained emotionally and physically; well and truly overwhelmed and at breaking point with all of this. I want – no, I need – my care coordinator back both to help me decide about EMDR and to help me cope if I go ahead with it. I don’t know how to get through all of this alone. :’-(