It’s been a while since I’ve written anything. With covid, it feels like the world is moving in slow motion, while simultaneously moving on fast forward. I feel like I always write about the same things when I do write, and I don’t want to be repetitive, but other than my psychiatrist and therapist, I don’t really know how to or maybe even want to open up.
I’ve been going to therapy for just over a month now, and it’s been helpful. I almost said while ‘but’ in the last sentence, however that’s not the case. I really like my therapist a lot. At first when we started, I kinda gave a verbal power point of some of my trauma. After I had gotten it all out, she told me that it was ok, and that it would take time and that I need to give myself time. That I didn’t have divulge all of that in one breath and it wouldn’t be as simple as saying it all at once. At first I felt embarrassed, because I felt like I really needed to get it all out. My last therapist I loved, but because of covid, her moving and honestly just my schedule, I wasn’t able to see her often, and eventually she stopped checking in. I didn’t realize how unsteady that made me feel until I met this new therapist.
It’s been a month and I feel a lot more settled. Therapy is every Wednesday at 9:00. Something that I wouldn’t have personally chosen for myself but am finding to be a good match. I know I can talk a lot and it helps that she chats as much as she…therapizes? I know that’s not a word, but it works. As we’ve talked, I’ve uncovered a lot of insecurities I feel about myself and my family, the constant feeling of being unsafe that I didn’t really recognize. We also talked about my disassociation. This isn’t something I’ve really delved into with a physician or anything, but something I feel often.
About a month ago, my psychiatrist started me on Seroquel for sleep. It’s something I took when I was in the hospital, and though it’s been years, I recalled it being helpful. I started on 50mg, though I didn’t find it as helpful and was taking my diphenhydramine alongside it. Then last week she upped to 100 since I still wasn’t sleeping well. And it worked quickly. The first day after 3 or so hours of constant nightmares, I finally fell asleep and slept until 3:30 pm which I NEVER do. Then I noticed my emotions were more even keeled. I wasn’t feeling so deeply depressed or saddened like I have been feeling.
That’s when I, like a genius, decided to google search the medication and it’s uses. It’d been so long, and I wasn’t sure if it was specifically an anti depressant or what have you. It’s listed as an antipsychotic, for bipolar, mania and schizophrenia. Immediately this freaked me out. Although I know people with these diagnoses, I’d never been diagnosed with more than depression, anxiety, and cptsd. Of course the stigma and understanding of the illnesses isn’t well communicated, but with my constant state of disassociating, I felt scared reading this.
I brought this up to her and she immediately eased my fears. As I was explaining to her what I feel like when I disassociate, I felt myself disassociating . My head felt swimy and I could feel myself disconnecting in the conversation. It was hard to explain what was happening in my head because I guess the emotions I feel when I’m describing it is too heavy. She said that it’s a trauma response and that it makes sense as to why I do that. I just don’t like it.
I feel like there are 4 versions of me: The one people see at work, the one I am when I am trying to distract myself, the one when I let myself feel everything, and the one that wants to destroy myself. It’s confusing and it sounds crazy. I feel scared and I guess ashamed if that’s how my brain works. Not that anyone should feel ashamed or embarrassed about it. But like. How do you explain not feeling safe with yourself? I don’t know how. And how do I communicate that with people. I just want to shut down.
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reading back, I can tell I wrote this in two sittings, but it was honest. I don’t really understand why my brain does this. Every thing I read says that your brain does this to protect itself. But I don’t feel protected. I feel fragmented and confused.
a diary 