I am aware that the content has been pretty heavy on the inner dialogue of late. That’s just where my head is, friends. I’m struggling as you probably see and chronicling the struggle seems to be a source of comfort and hope. Today, my therapist said that I don’t seem to have any hope even though I keep moving forward. She’s not wrong.
Usually, I can cling to the truth that this is a cyclical son of a bitch of a disease and things will come round again for me. Right now, I just feel so weary of that cycle. But I’m plodding forward.
The unceasing news about sexual violence and climate change add an existential (and necessary) layer of gravitas to the situation. Disconnecting does not feel like an option because really bad things are happening.
One positive thing did happen. I advocated for myself about accessing therapy twice a week to be able to take care of my needs. I requested a meeting to discuss and asked my partner to go with me. When I went in today, I was told that I could be fit into some available slots starting in November. It is a reasonable compromise. I didn’t get angry or yell, just say repeatedly “this is what I need” and “let’s talk this out face to face” – and it worked. But I suspect my therapist is truly squeezing her schedule to make this happen because she’s concerned for me. And that’s sad.
I definitely do not like getting special treatment because I speak up; I should get the necessary treatment because of my health status. I don’t like that resources are so extended that so many people who were getting supports monthly are increasing their frequency. I don’t like that Persad hires people with ties to rightwing Christian spaces like Liberty University, Grove City, Geneva, etc – making me leery of when my therapist eventually leaves Pittsburgh.
But enough for now. I have enough to shouder now. And I have to figure out how to walk through October until I can get this EMDR treatment going.
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