I had a pretty good day today.
Started out with an appointment with NT2.0 this morning. I spent all night worrying myself crazy about whether to tell her about my flashback last week, how much to tell her about it, etc., so my anxiety was pretty bad going into the appointment. I still hadn’t figured out what to say when she came out to the waiting room to get me.
I used to think I was good at hiding my emotional states from being visible to others, but I guess I’m not all that good after all–she asked me right off if I’d had a rough week. I said yes and told her it was a combination of PMDD and a really nasty flashback. I didn’t talk about the actual content of the flashback, and she said she understood I probably didn’t know her well enough yet to feel safe talking about it. It helped that she didn’t push.
I also told her about the comment my nurse made right after the flashback. She immediately sighed and made this “Are you serious?” face, and she said it sounded like a comment from someone who meant well but didn’t really know how to deal with trauma survivors. NT2.0 gets that flashbacks are, however horrible, a normal response to trauma and not a sign that I’m letting anyone else win. So I’m feeling a lot saner about how I reacted to the comment. I guess sometimes I really just need to hear someone with a PhD tell me, “No, Sara, that’s not crazy. That’s normal.”
We also talked more about the dissociation than we had in previous sessions. I assumed Pseudo-Therapist had told NT2.0 about the DID diagnosis, but apparently she hadn’t. But NT2.0 didn’t seem freaked out about it, and she didn’t treat me like a fascinating laboratory specimen, so that’s good. But seriously, did Pseudo-Therapist not think mentioning a DID diagnosis to potential therapists was important? I told her that was a make-or-break issue. See, stuff like this is why I just talk to Pseudo-Therapist about books and politics, not anything of emotional import.
Then I had a shift with Counselor wherein we drove to one place for lunch, realized it had no more parking and a line out the door, drove to another place that had an hour long wait, and finally ended up at this yummy little Asian place that does amazing tofu teriyaki tea-rolls. I would’ve thought with the Five Colleges all out for the summer, there’d be fewer people around, but I guess they’re all hanging around. But I got teriyaki tea-rolls, so I can’t complain too much.
Then I had a meeting with Nurse. I’d been dreading it all week because she’s the person on the team I’d felt most connected to before the stupid comment, and it was really stressing me out. But it seems like talking about the whole thing in therapy was enough that I’m okay about it now. I mean, I still think it was a dumbass thing to say, but I was finally able to realize that she just said something careless and doesn’t think I’m a worthless, pathetic waste of space.
Nurse wants to talk to Psychiatrist about testing me for adrenal fatigue. My [admittedly brief] reading on the topic came up with a lot of questionable science, but I trust this doctor–he identified the MTHFR polymorphism and thereby cured my depression. Also, Medicare covers the testing, so I guess not all the science is so suspect. I guess it can’t hurt.
She’s also going to talk to him about what else we can try for the PMDD. I’ve been through most of the options–antidepressants, birth control, calcium/magnesium/zinc, progesterone pills, sublingual progesterone drops, yoga, and even reiki. At most, some of those have taken the edge off, but nothing has made it close to bearable. Every month, I’m afraid I will kill myself because I lose all perspective–even though I know it’s hormones and is only temporary, killing myself just seems like the perfect solution. Which is insane and not an okay status quo. I wish they’d just scoop out my ovaries and be done with it, but I don’t think a doctor would be willing to do that because they assume everyone with a uterus wants to make babies, even if that uterus-owner has considered the decision for years and is very sure she doesn’t want to be a baby factory. *sigh* I just want to stop losing it for one week out of every four.