Laurapenpusher’s Weblog

I made it through the night and by the next morning, the symptoms weren’t nearly as bad; leaving the house was more difficult than staying home and dealing with it myself. I didn’t go to the address the woman had given me the night before. After going online and finding more information on emergency services, I was glad I hadn’t called the previous night or I may have ended up in the hospital. I was in a psych ward once; I was 21 or 22 at the time and it was a horrible place. I don’t want to go back to that.

The stress has eased somewhat; I’ll be getting a refund from the IRS that should carry me for a couple of months. Beyond that, I don’t know what will happen and if I dwell on it, I’ll regress into a deeper funk. So, as the eminent Ms. Scarlet says, “I’ll think about that tomorrow.”

It rained yesterday, turning to snow by 4:00 p.m. My hips and knees were “yelling” at me because of the cold and damp and RA. I actually welcomed it though because the pain in my joints helped keep the voices at bay. During my relatively peaceful isolation, I went online to get more information on disability. As mentioned in an earlier entry, I’ve had a couple of friends suggest I apply. I’d like to think I can still contribute and be a productive member of society – I just have to figure out how I can do it without leaving my apartment and how I can have better control on my stress management. When I’m around others in a work environment, I become the Bitch and I’m dealing with stresses others place on me. I sometimes feel like I’m walking a tightrope, and without perfect balance, I’ll fall either way. The Mad House comes to mind again. Each step has to be so carefully planned and yet the floor still drops from under me or my world turns upside down.

I did discover some new information about the disability end of it and programs available to help people stay in the work force through training and other assistance. That gave me some hope; perhaps with assistance I can set up something here at home, maybe on the internet; I don’t know yet but the conscious brain (as differentiated from the mind) is moving a mile a minute. That’s a good thing. It’s usually the other way around these days.

I filled out the application form and completed some other necessary forms. With some hesitation, I faxed them in. If I had to mail them, I might never have made it outside the house! According to the information online, it takes about 120 days to complete the evaluation and decision; if it’s denied, I’ll then have to decide whether to appeal or not. But that’s down the road and I don’t need to think about it today.

My family doesn’t know what’s happening to me right now. I’d like to talk to my mother about it, but her own involuntary complicity in my abuse as a child is painful to her. She drives me nuts sometimes (I know – it’s a short drive!) but I do love the woman and while I had my issues growing up, she had her own in raising us. Neither of us has been completely healed. The anger I have so often is connected to the perpetrator and just the overall burden of dealing with it over and over again. When I think I’m past it now, I can move on with my life, something comes up that brings it back every time.

I worked as a volunteer for a rape counseling center. The last day of training triggered a major dissociative episode but I was so in denial, I didn’t connect the dots. For three years, I counseled woman survivors of sexual assault and felt good about being able to help in their time of crisis. I knew the symptoms: shame, guilt, anger, self-blame. When I came out of the dissociative state, physically, I was in my car, stopped at a traffic light. I have no idea how long my mind had been absent, but in becoming aware, my thoughts had the perpetrator hanging by his wrists, naked, and I was torturing him, cutting his genitals, not too deeply, with a straight razor. Having been a pacifist for as long as I can remember, the sight in my mind’s eye was shocking and horrified me. I thought with that episode that I’d dealt with my anger. More recently, I realize there’s so much more inside and it rears its ugly head in every Bitch moment, with anyone in the vicinity.