Posts here are few and far between. Life continues to throw chronic-illness-curve-balls.
I thoroughly enjoyed a seven week break from all of my health professionals. I had no appointments to go to, no new medications to try – nothing. I had a quiet Christmas with a good friend, then spent a few weeks making the most of another hypomanic episode.
Not seeing my psychologist was wonderful! I was able to push things away, not think about them, and just do things I felt like doing. I felt like a ‘normal’ person. Unfortunately that meat burying thoughts and emotions surrounding a series of stressful events. I told myself that I’d be okay, that I could manage until my psychologist came back. Then I could start working some of it out.
That really didn’t go to plan. The stress built up, and the thoughts, and emotions were buried as deep as possible. By the time I saw my psychologist I wasn’t able to explain what had happened, what the triggers were, or even mention all the unhealthy coping mechanisms I’d started using.
I left that session and cried, then cancelled the next one. I saw no point in talking when I didn’t know how I could possibly fix things. Since then I’ve been to two more sessions. One of those ended in disaster – severe dissociation, an ambulance being called, paramedics moving me, taking me to the local emergency department, clothes removed, gown put on, ECG done, and finally discharged when I was more present, and able to talk and move.
Life feels messy. I’m disconnected and dissociated from most of what must be going on inside. I’m aware of losing a little bit of time, but don’t know who’s out or what’s happening.
I’m holding on, but I’m not okay.