Flashbacks and Boundaries

I learned something new about boundaries the other night. You see, I had a bit of a freak out in class Thursday night. We were cruising along through the lecture when the instructor said something that caused me to have a flashback. My therapist and I had talked about this…that something would eventually come up and I was going to have to learn how to be exposed to triggers without having a reaction. And I’m better at it than I use to be...but this one just caught me off guard. I’m usually so guarded in there so that I can avoid just that. But I had made it to the 6^th week of the course and I guess I got a little too comfortable. So I lost it. I tried to quiet my sobs but I could feel myself getting out of control. I could feel myself shaking and I wanted to leave the classroom but I was paralyzed. I didn’t want to draw attention to myself by leaving in the middle of lecture but in hind sight I was drawing more attention to myself by staying…I mean it is a classroom of 5 people. Finally one of my classmates asked for a break so that she could use the restroom…I highly doubt she really needed to go…I feel as though she was trying to give me an escape…and I took it…fast.

I moved as fast as I could down the hall to an empty classroom and called the emergency line for my therapist. I was shaking all over and crying and at that point. I realized that someone’s stuff was in the classroom, which meant that even though the classroom I was in was empty right then…there was a person that was coming back, so I vacated and looked for another empty room. There was none…all the classrooms were either occupied or locked and I was becoming panicked. Eventually I found a deserted hallway and sat down and sobbed. While I was waiting a complete stranger asked me if I needed anything and I felt embarrassed as I told her no.

Once my therapist called, I had calmed down a little, but I was still distressed. Eventually with his help, I calmed and then I realized that all of my things were in the classroom and I didn’t want to go back in there and face them. I felt so ashamed of myself. I was so embarrassed, so I told my therapist that I didn’t want to go back, that I felt ashamed of myself. He talked me into going back...but first I felt sick. So I got off the phone and went to the bathroom and vomited all the junk food I had been eating during class (nothing like going from a 0 to a 10 in less than a second to upset your stomach). Finally I returned to the classroom and I walked across the room with my eyes down…I didn’t want to look at any of them…I felt so ashamed.

I managed the rest of the class and packed to leave, but before I could get out the door my instructor asked for me to stay behind. I felt anxiety rising as I sat there waiting for the last of my classmates to leave. I stared at the floor and I felt myself shaking again. I fought for control but as soon as she sat down in front of me and asked me about what was going on, I started crying again. I fought hard against the tears as I tried to explain to her with as little information as possible what had happened. She wanted to know if I had someone to talk to, so I told her I was in therapy. She was pleased with that. And then the conversation took a pleasant turn. She began to talk about how I needed to work on boundaries as a professional. She talked about how I needed to be able to hear someone like what I heard that night, without immediately applying it to myself…that this had to be a boundary I could operate under in order to be a successful clinician. She said that she wants to help me with forming this boundary. She said she that it seems like this is an area I am going to have to work hard at and she wants to help me become a successful professional. She said that in the future I would need to approach her after class when things like this come up and we would work through it in order to be on  my way to becoming a successful therapist. I was thrilled with her response to my drama…and really happy she didn’t try to go all therapist on me.

So boundaries are going to be a big obstacle on my way to becoming a successful therapist but I think I can do it...or at least I hope. I got an awesome instructor, a great therapist and psychiatrist and awesome friends and family, so I’m on my way already. Now I just have to face my classmates next week…I’m more than a little anxious about this…but I’m going to face my fears and do it anyways.

Love, Randi

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A Raw Kind of Pain

A few weeks ago I had a really rough night. I had a flashback and it really got to me. I put into play all of my newly learned coping mechanisms, but nothing seemed to work. I tried endlessly to distract myself. I put on my favorite music, I tried to read something encouraging, I tried mindful breathing and trying to allow the thoughts to pass without judging them, but nothing could calm me down, so I resorted to an old way of coping…I hid in my closet. I brought my cell phone in there with me and tried to count my breathes with the ticking clock app I have downloaded on my phone, but every time I would start to calm down I would get ramped back up. I was getting so worked up that I was starting to hear someone coming for me…I was in tears and anxious. I surrendered to my last hope and called the emergency line at my therapist’s office. Here’s the thing, it’s really hard to explain to an operator what’s going on when you’re sobbing so hard you can’t speak. I finally managed to get her to understand that I couldn’t calm down. After that we started the task of her getting my name and matching me to my therapist so she could page him. That took some doing too. It was late so she informed me that she would page him and he would call me as soon as he could. I hung up and sobbed and rocked and waited for my phone to ring. Finally he called. I don’t really remember much of what was said, what I do remember is crying. It was those soul wrecking sobs that has snot and tears running down your face and leaves your eyes swollen halfway shut. I think he tried to talk to me but I’m guessing he realized that I was past words. Finally he said probably the kindest and most loving thing I’ve ever been told when I’m in a state like that. “It’s ok to cry. I’m not going anywhere.” And he didn’t go anywhere, and I that made the difference. I cried for a while and he just stayed on the line. It meant a lot to me, it still does.

You seem most people turn away when they come into contact with that kind of overwhelming emotion. And who could blame them? I mean if you’ve ever been to a funeral you know what I mean. It’s really uncomfortable to be around people who are truly grieving. If you have in a sliver of a soul you know that there is a heaviness that comes with that kind of pain. So it makes sense that no one would really want to be around it.

And furthermore, most of us don’t want anyone to see us like that. I know I most certainly don’t. When I get like that I want to be in my closet, but I know that staying in there isn’t going to help matters…in fact I  know that if I stay in that state in my closet then I will most likely end up hurting myself…whether that be through cutting, pinching or scratching. But my point here is that most of us would rather no one see us cry. Today’s culture has drilled into us that crying is a sign of weakness and none of us want to be perceived as weak.

But I’m also coming to realize that most people don’t have that kind of overwhelming emotional response to things. I get like that more than I would care to admit. I am getting better about self-soothing, but I do recognize that it is unusual for someone to be in that state of mind as frequently as I am. I’m guessing it’s a Borderline Personality Disorder thing. (They say I have Borderline tendencies.)

So in a world where no one wants to be around that kind of overwhelming emotion and most of us would never ask for help in that kind of pain, let alone allow someone to know we are hurting like that, my therapist stayed with me and supported me in a way that I never thought anyone would. You see I’m usually the one that sits beside the person who is suffering. I’m the friend people call when they need to sob, but the few times I have reached out I have just come into contact with making someone else feel really awkward and uncomfortable and I don’t want that. But that wasn’t the reaction my therapist gave me and I couldn’t be more grateful.

So this is a thank you to all of you out there that support the people you love when they are in pain. For those of us that stay on the line when all the other person can do is sob. For those of us who know that sometimes all you can do is just hold their hand. For those of us who know that sometimes it’s just beyond words. Thank you.

Love, Randi

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Rats and Sink Holes and Twins, Oh My!

A week ago I forgot my antipsychotic. I was a little concerned when I realized it the next morning, but as the day went on I felt like I was in the clear. I mean sure I didn’t sleep much the night before, but I wasn’t hallucinating or thinking I could fly so I felt like I had dodged a bullet. And then the next day happened...

There were rats in the ceiling. FREAKING RATS…AT SCHOOL…DURING CLASS…IN THE CEILING...RATS! I don’t know how long I stared at the ceiling in terror but eventually I had the notion to look at everyone else and see if they were as freaked out by all those rats as I was. But they weren’t looking at the ceiling in horror…they were talking and facing forward, participating in class. Ok, I told myself. They aren’t there. There’re not there, I told myself. I gripped the table and rocked and tried to push the noise of all those paws out of my mind, but the sound was becoming deafening. I got up and went to the bathroom and focused on slowing my breathing and listening to that ticking app on my phone that I downloaded on my phone…counting 5 seconds in and 5 seconds out. When I went back the rats were gone. I thought, ok…I’m good now.

Everything was fine until that night. I was up late and I came into the kitchen to get something to drink to take my meds before going to bed. When I entered the kitchen I heard the floorboards creaking but the creaking wasn’t under my feet so it didn’t make sense that there was so much creaking. I turned and looked toward the living room and had to double take what I saw…there was a freaking sink hole in the living room! My entire living room was sliding down into a kind of vortex looking sink hole. It made no sense and I told myself immediately it wasn’t real…but I couldn’t help my curiosity. I laid down on the floor and inched myself toward the sink hole and tried to stick my hand in it but I couldn’t get my hand to touch it, so I proceeded to lay on the floor and just stare at this sink hole…it was so weird and I was both scared and mesmerized. When I got tired I went to bed. In the morning the sink hole was gone. The rest of the day I was fine.

Then Monday came around and halfway through my therapy session I was having trouble deciding which one of my therapists I should pay attention to...because suddenly there were two of him…it was weird and so I spent most of my session shifting my focus between the nice talking therapist and the mean talking therapist. I was pretty sure the nice one was the one that was real…but I couldn’t quit ignore the other one...he was rather persistent...and really mean. After deciding the nice one had to be the real one I managed to tell my therapist towards the end of the session that there were two of him and that this was why I was having trouble interacting with him. (I have to give my therapist credit for at least noticing that I wasn't all there while in session.) He thought it was funny and made light of it and it kind of made me angry because the other one of him was being really ugly to me...and kind of upsetting me. I told my therapist I didn't think it was funny and he got kind of quite and back off. After session the other one of him followed me around for a few hours after I left the office talking nasty crap about me and calling me names and just being a general bully but eventually he went away while I was driving to go swim laps. And I’ve been fine since then.

So I missed one dosage and had three hallucinations…but I managed not to lose it completely. Needless to say I have been taking that med on time every day. I have a timer that goes off on my phone at the appropriate time and then I keep some in a bottle in my purse in case I’m not at home when I need it. But there was no hiding in my closet, or talking to the voices, or arguing with demons and any of that.

But what surprised me so much was how much it threw me off when I missed just one dosage. I feel kind of shook up about how big of an effect missing one dosage had. So my little oops, I forgot moment turned into half a week’s worth of worrying that I was on the way to the hospital again. Because that is the very last thing I need. I mean things are starting to turn around. I should be moving out in a few weeks…a big step in me becoming the adult I should have been years ago, and I got another contract lined up as a telephone interviewer starting in July, and oh yeah, I have started earning my masters in clinical mental health counseling. So even though I had a rough week…hallucinating and all…things are still looking up. So I hope you all have a great day...and don't forget your meds...

Love, Randi

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A Man's Battle

Hi, I don’t believe we know one another,

I play many roles, father, son, husband and brother.

I lost my job three weeks ago, and I’m afraid to tell my wife,

I can’t sleep at night, afraid of the future and its strife.

I’ve been scrambling, searching for a replacement fast,

Because the bank accounts are depleting and I know this facade won’t last.

Hello, you can call me lieutenant,

I worked hard to serve this country and fulfill all of my commitments.

But what you don’t know is how difficult all my days are,

I can’t be around too many people or loud noises, it’s just too hard.

Flashbacks, nightmares, cold sweats and anxiety,

They call it posttraumatic stress in world of psychiatry.

Hi, please don’t look too close or you’ll see my tears.

I was supposed to protect them, not end all their years.

I was angry and driving too fast,

Now my daughter is in a comma and my wife’s life is in the past.

I don’t know how I will ever live with what I’ve done,

But for now I have to step up and take care of my son.

Hello, it’s nice to meet you, but don’t look past my smile.

I’ve made some bad decisions and I’m having trouble dealing with my life’s trials.

To the outside world, I’m a man’s man.

I get everything I want including all the ladies hands.

But each day that I fill my life with meaningless interactions,

Is another day spent with my soul’s dissatisfaction.

We all have something to hide, something to fill us with shame,

And because of this world's stereotypes we must continue life’s game.

Never fail, make mistakes or be unable to compete,

We have to always be strong and never show that sometimes we are weak.

But through Christ we can all find our true strength and healing,

And push forward to finding our life’s meaning.

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