My Therapist Rocks
Saw her this morning, feeling a bit better.
We talked a lot about family dynamics, particularly how my entire family has this "If you don't talk about or acknowledge a problem, then everything's fine" mentality, and we talked about how I could change that, because it really has a negative effect on my emotional wellbeing. (Note: I'm using "emotional wellbeing" now instead of "mental health." I like it better; doesn't make me sound like I'm trying not to be bughouse nuts.)
So I did. I told my grandmother I was going to take Tuesday off work if at all possible. She told me not to do that, but I told her it was something I needed to do for me. My aunt is staying through the surgery, and one of my uncles probably will too.
We also covered my mother a little. Among the gems today:
"Your mother is definitely off the deep end."
I kinda wanted to hug her for saying that. I've been so used to my mother being the archetype of the loving, long-suffering single mother raising three daughters, one of whom is bughouse nuts. (That would be me, in case you didn't get it.)
She also said that me and my grandmother seem to be the healthiest (emotionally) in the family. I kind of snorted, and she said, "I bet you're thinking we're all in trouble," she said.
"Uh, pretty much, yeah, but my thought was a little more vulgar."
"I think I know you a little," she said. "But really, I think that's true. You came to me with this list of diagnoses long enough to choke a cat, and I thought, 'Oh no, what have I gotten myself into? But they were all false, except for the PTSD."
It's nice, not being the crazy one. It's nice, getting that validation.
We talked about Susan, too, about her taking the money from my father and denying that any of the abuse had ever happened. She asked if I was doubting my own memories, and I told her no. They're too real. I remember too much to go back to denial. But I told her that I did have some doubts initially, right after it happened. She asked why I didn't call her, and I shrugged.
"It wasn't that big of a deal," I said.
"I think it was," she said. "I think you minimize a lot of things."
Okay, guilty as charged. I was freaking the hell out, but I didn't want to bother her. I didn't want to need help. I just sucked it up and dealt with it on my own. I still have trouble reaching out for help when I need it...but I am doing better. That's something....
Anywho, I have to get dressed and go to work.
Sara
We talked a lot about family dynamics, particularly how my entire family has this "If you don't talk about or acknowledge a problem, then everything's fine" mentality, and we talked about how I could change that, because it really has a negative effect on my emotional wellbeing. (Note: I'm using "emotional wellbeing" now instead of "mental health." I like it better; doesn't make me sound like I'm trying not to be bughouse nuts.)
So I did. I told my grandmother I was going to take Tuesday off work if at all possible. She told me not to do that, but I told her it was something I needed to do for me. My aunt is staying through the surgery, and one of my uncles probably will too.
We also covered my mother a little. Among the gems today:
"Your mother is definitely off the deep end."
I kinda wanted to hug her for saying that. I've been so used to my mother being the archetype of the loving, long-suffering single mother raising three daughters, one of whom is bughouse nuts. (That would be me, in case you didn't get it.)
She also said that me and my grandmother seem to be the healthiest (emotionally) in the family. I kind of snorted, and she said, "I bet you're thinking we're all in trouble," she said.
"Uh, pretty much, yeah, but my thought was a little more vulgar."
"I think I know you a little," she said. "But really, I think that's true. You came to me with this list of diagnoses long enough to choke a cat, and I thought, 'Oh no, what have I gotten myself into? But they were all false, except for the PTSD."
It's nice, not being the crazy one. It's nice, getting that validation.
We talked about Susan, too, about her taking the money from my father and denying that any of the abuse had ever happened. She asked if I was doubting my own memories, and I told her no. They're too real. I remember too much to go back to denial. But I told her that I did have some doubts initially, right after it happened. She asked why I didn't call her, and I shrugged.
"It wasn't that big of a deal," I said.
"I think it was," she said. "I think you minimize a lot of things."
Okay, guilty as charged. I was freaking the hell out, but I didn't want to bother her. I didn't want to need help. I just sucked it up and dealt with it on my own. I still have trouble reaching out for help when I need it...but I am doing better. That's something....
Anywho, I have to get dressed and go to work.
Sara