Today’s therapy session with T was all over the place.
I was late to arrive, which I hate. I am at least 10-15 minutes early about 99% of the time, because I like to be sure I’m on time. I leave home early enough that if there’s a traffic incident, I won’t be late. I’m one of those people, I like to be early. Anyway, I was late, but it was unavoidable. As I was readying to go, I checked in with my mother by telephone (she was at work). She told me something had happened with my aunt and could I go check on my father next door. So I scooped up my iPad and my purse and ran out the door, then rushed next door to see what had happened.
Apparently my aunt’s condition was worsening and the nurse in the hospital who was caring for her had telephoned my father. They suggested strongly that he come (it’s a 3 hour drive). My aunt has a DNR and her request is to not be kept on any machines, including a ventilator. So my dad was just coming down the stairs with his suitcase. I made sure he had his tea and some protein bars, and that he had everything he needed. I offered to go with him, but he declined. I asked him multiple times if he was okay to drive alone and he said yes. I didn’t have any choice, even though I was worried sick, I let him go. I locked up his house and rushed out to my car so I could head to my appointment. The drive on a good day–no traffic and making every light–is 10 minutes. That doesn’t include parking. It was ten before the hour when I started the car’s engine.
I got to T’s office at 1:02pm. She was waiting at the front desk and I immediately apologized. She kind of rolled her eyes and said that two minutes wasn’t late. But it means something to me, and for the rest of the appointment I felt scattered. Some of it was because of my aunt and some of it was because I felt I had so much I had wanted to talk about but my aunt was so forefront in my mind. I told T about New Dog and showed her pictures. We talked a bit about my anxiety over the incoming addition, and I tried to convince her (and myself) that I was going to be able to handle it. I am trying to remember that not making an instant connection does not mean total failure.
Then we talked about whether or not my lack of memory of my youth was a sign that something had happened to me. She felt strongly, based on her experience, that I didn’t show signs of it. We actually spent quite a bit of time talking about it, and I feel confident that she is right. I do remember some things when I talk about my youth…almost like I need to be pointed in the right direction, but the memories do come when they are “triggered.” So at least I feel some relief on that subject.
We also talked briefly about how I felt school went pretty easily for me, academically speaking. I got good grades and didn’t really have to exert myself too much. So when I find things to be more difficult, they almost seem overly difficult to overcome. I kind of feel strange saying this, because I know there are a lot of challenges that I face…and they are difficult and I have overcome them. So it’s not like, I’m lazy or anything. But maybe it’s more the idea of dealing with difficult things is anxiety-provoking. And/or the concern that I might not be able to handle and/or overcome the difficulty… Those things actually sounds much more like me. Interesting…sometimes I find how I can work thoughts out when I’m writing blogs that I can’t ferret out in a conversation with T.
We kind of left our session with her being kind of amused to remind me how often I am inside my head. No shit.