This week was a bunch of ups and downs. More downs than ups but, hey, that’s life. We took the kids to a water park on Saturday, and they had a blast. My daughter is officially my mom’s child and not mine. I could NOT get that kid out of the lazy river. That was literally all she wanted to do. Forget the water slides, forget the splash park, lying in an inner tube floating in a river was where it was at! What six-year-old is like that?
Father’s Day was good for the most part. The kids gave Hubby his present and then they gave one to Grandpa too. For the most part, it was a slow, lazy day. Much needed though so I won’t complain.
But otherwise, dear Lord am I stressed out lately! My anxiety is sky high, and I’ve been living off Xanax for the past week. I decided to leave my place of work for a variety of factors, which leaves me in a manhunt to find a new job before summer ends. It’s nearly July, so I’m beginning to panic. I have a job interview coming up soon, so I hope all ends up well. Fingers crossed. I really need this.
I had therapy today and I left feeling worse than I went in. I feel like we haven’t been making a lot of progress, partially because I haven’t been putting in the effort. I talked about a variety of things that had happened during the week including the whole job hunting thing and the stress it is bringing on. I knew I needed to bring up the idea of stepping back into EMDR, but I couldn’t bring myself to discuss it. Luckily, she asked about it, and slowly began to lead the discussion for the session. She hasn’t led the conversations in a long time, so I was really thankful.
I told her I was ready to begin EMDR, but she wants to hold off a little longer. We are bringing up some really heavy stuff so she wants to make sure that I have substantial coping skills under my belt to help deal with the trauma processing work that we are about to begin. She also doesn’t want to start this stuff if I’m doing job interviews and whatnot. For whatever reason, it kinda upset me that doesn’t think we are ready to begin.
Yet, as much as I want to get it started, I won’t lie, I’m scared. I can handle the memories of what Dad did. It hurts, but I can get through it. The sexual abuse stuff is a whole different ball field. I’m afraid of seeing it all again. I can remember all of the details about what happened to me, but EMDR is so incredibly vivid. It’s as if you could reach in and touch it, and if you aren’t careful it can feel like you’re re-experiencing it instead of watching it as if it were on a movie screen. But even more than seeing it, my biggest fear is having to put those images to words, to give a description of something that’s so private.
She seems to slowly be easing me into a conversation about what happened that night. Last session she asked what happened just prior to the event, what set things off. Today she asked a little bit more. She wanted to know more about the time frame, because there is a huge significance in that. For the first time, she used the word rape. It felt significant for me, it felt validating. But it was also hard to hear. It was a reality check in a way. That word is suddenly being used to describe me. My name and rape belong in the same sentence together. I now fit in with that statistic, whereas five years ago I didn’t.