We Have to Stop Now
I have been diagnosed with Treatment Resistant Major Depression (plus other things). Recently I was in therapy & my therapist was looking through my file for a court document from when I first started therapy. She found it, read it to me and while doing so she mentioned the date on the document-2006. 2006?!?!?! Are you kidding me?!? I’ve been in therapy for 7+ years?!?!?!? What is wrong with me? Why can’t I get it together? Why can’t I be normal? Why does the past haunt me 24/7? Will it ever stop?
These are just some of the thoughts that ran through my head. Am I better off now then I was in 2006? Well, yes, for the past 7 years I have had someone to talk to twice a week. Someone who actually listens, respects me, believes me and says they care about me. When I say “talk” I mean deep, hurtful, powerful feelings and memories. It is hard work. After 7 years, have I talked about everything that happened to me in my life that has contributed to my current state of mind? The answer is no. 7 years and no, there is still baggage that I am too afraid to talk about, or say out loud. It is choking me and making me feel and act crazy and want to die. I am grateful that the community outreach center that I go to for therapy has been letting me come twice a week. Still, there never seems to be enough time. I go to therapy wanting to talk about things that have happened during the past few days, feelings, memories, thoughts and dreams. The time always seems to go by so quickly. Before I know it I hear “We have to stop now.” I hate hearing those words.
It brings me back to reality and reminds me that I am just another crazy, depressed person. There are many other clients that need to be seen, that need help too. It reminds me that the person I am talking to is getting paid to listen and talk to me. It reminds me that I have no one in my life that cares. It reminds me of my loneliness and that I don’t really matter to anyone.
At a recent session I wanted to talk about some horrifying nightmares (some events that actually happened-not dreams, but flashbacks that happen while I am sleeping) that I am having about my father. Before I started I asked if we still had time for me to do this. The answer was yes. I was shaking as I talked about the events and was scared to talk about them. I couldn’t look at my therapist, I felt embarrassed, mortified and humiliated. When I was finished. I heard “we have to stop now“. It was such an emotional let down. I just finished spilling my guts about something that is upsetting me. Something that I was extremely anxious to say out loud.
There was no time to talk about the nightmares, my feelings about them, my extreme anxiety and the panic I feel every night when I go to sleep. I felt left in limbo. I left the office feeling very upset, anxious and feeling sort of ‘out of my body’. As I was getting in my car my mind was reeling, confused as to what just happened. I was not upset with my therapist, she was just doing her job, time was up and she probably had another client waiting. This is what I mean by there never being enough time. It’s no ones fault, that is just they way things work. It probably would have helped if I had a friend to call, but I don’t have any friends. Instead I ended up collapsing in tears when I got home. The nightmares and flashbacks in my sleep continue. I am afraid to sleep. I am afraid of having intense flash backs. I don’t want to sound selfish. I am so grateful for my therapist and the community outreach center I go to.
Everyone there has been kind and generous to me. They have taken me to family court, social services, doctor appointments, etc. Anytime I need someone to go some place with me, my therapist is there to help. The kindness that has been shown to me is something that is a rarity in my life. I am grateful for the kindness and everything the center and staff have done for me.
I am responsible for my current state of mind and not being able to communicate what’s in my head. After all, I’ve had 7 years. The situation feels hopeless, there is nothing anyone can do and there is no “magic” pill that will erase the years of abuse, neglect and torture that I have been though and am still going through. I feel powerless over the memories that constantly play back in my head, the flash backs, the nightmares, my inability to control them, to be normal, the excruciating emotional pain that never stops, the voices in my head that tell me over and over what a bad person I am, and the constant thoughts of death.
I am still here, but what’s the point when you feel hopeless, worthless, useless, sad (really sad), crazy, alone, empty inside, agitated, angry, upset all the time, anxious, panicky, afraid, scared, different from everyone else, not normal and your mind constantly telling you that you are not needed and you bother people and it would be better if you just disappeared. I can’t take it anymore. I try telling my mind that we have to stop now. Stop all the voices, the flash backs and fear, but it doesn’t work. My depression has me in a very dark place and I have been fighting to get out for a long time. I am tired of fighting, of not being understood, not being able to find the words to express what’s in my head. I am tired of being so lonely. I’m tired of being starved for something as simple as a hug and wishing someone would tell me that everything is going to be ok, that I just need more time. So I am asking whoever is reading this – is it time to stop now?
Mary is available on twitter here