This book has no more entries published after this entry.

I’ll Die Living Just As Free As My Hair... in Chapter 9 : Oil Above Water

Revised: 02/27/2018 11:29 p.m.

  • Feb. 27, 2018, 3:16 p.m.
  • |
  • Public

[“I’ll die living just as free as my hair…” - Lady Gaga (Hair)]
(

)

So....

I started writing this before I went for my appointment, but things have changed so I scrubbed it and I’m starting again.

Today was the day. Today I went back into therapy. Clinical Hypnotherapy & NLP to be precise. I won’t lie, I was an absolute mess this morning when I got up, my stomach was going over and over. I was ready to write the whole day off and hide. I was ready to run but I didn’t. I put my big girl panties on, sucked up life through a straw and went in to class because if I hide then who the fuck knows when I’ll re-emerge, I don’t have time for agoraphobia now, not with 2 kids in tow. I’m not 21 anymore, I can’t be housebound with no consequences. ANYWAY. I made it as far as about half 9 this morning without being sick, FTR my face needs to NEVER be that close to a college toilet bowl ever again. Yeurgh. People are filthy, and not in the good way either. So I did my 4 hours in class and passed as a functioning human being, which is always good when inside you feel like you just want to crawl up your own arse and die.

So I get to her office and she tells me to go wait in her actual office, by this time my heart’s in my mouth, BPM are through the roof, mouth’s drier than a badgers arse. The room’s spinning and I’m pretty sure I’m going to pass out, then she walks in, sits down for the basic therapy admin and then the question of why I’m there and I told her EVERYTHING. Everything from the real reason we moved here, the neglect, beatings and force feedings I suffered as a child, the whole divorce mess and being sent live with the rich relations so that Social Work wouldn’t put me jn care, the loathing and hatred from WSM when Ma packed me off for “their turn”, the molestation from Ma’s third and final husband, the eating disorders, The Elle Saga, Dick and the rapes…all of it. I even told her about when Iain killed himself, and left me trapped in this life. I told her I’m not a suicide risk because I saw what that did to the family, how it nearly killed my Gran, and how I simply couldn’t put them through that again. According to the clinical questionnaire she had me fill out (the same one the GP uses before they sign you up for meds) I’m Severely Depressed and have the Anxiety to match. That’s alongside the OCD, PTSD, Panic and ED. Eyes down for a Full House troops. She explained what was going to happen, inside my head was screaming to run for the hills as the lights dimmed, but I stuck on in there because if there’s one label I absolutely REFUSE to have stuck on me then it’s “Quitter”. I put the headphones on as instructed and we began. It was possibly the trippiest experience I’ve ever had. She started by getting me to focus on my breathing, then to imagine that there was an aura of my favourite colour descending which would go on to wrap around me, cocooning. Then she asked the synesthete to imagine a sound for the colour; it was, as it always has been Tingsha Bells then a smell was to be introduced, sandalwood. I have no clue where my brain pulled it from, but I love it so it was soothing. All this combined was to bring a feeling of warmth, and it did. I felt safe, secure. I felt like it was maybe going to be ok. I could hear every word she said, I was still there, I was still in control. It was going to be ok. She took me on a journey through a garden to a fountain; the fountain was warm, it would cleanse me of the anxiety, the stress. Once cleansed I was taken to a house, the lower floor was the present and I was to stand in the present to see that it can’t hurt me. The cellar door was open, I wasn’t to go down to the cellar, that’s where all the hurt, pain and toxicity is packed away because it’s not needed anymore, instead I was to close and lock the cellar door before going upstairs to see the future, but obviously there was nothing there because it hasn’t happened yet - i think this was the penny dropped for me - she got me to open the cupboard door and it was full of possibility and opportunity, that I CAN make the future whatever I want it to be. After this she got me to leave the house and return to the garden, and then she “brought me back” so to speak.

It was fucking phenomenal. I feel so much lighter, I was actually smiling, I haven’t really stopped smiling since, it feels strange on my face. It’s been a while since I truly smiled. I feel empowered again, like I’m ready to accept that the old Kit can be let go, that it’s ok to say goodbye to who I was and embrace whoever it is I’m becoming. I feel like I’m living a series finale of Dr Who, like I’m the one who’s regenerating and I’ve no clue who I’m about to be. I feel like maybe there really is hope, that with our sessions and the recording that she’s sent me to listen to daily until our next session, that maybe I’ve finally found something that might actually work. Maybe all this will be the Kintsugi that will stick me back together. Maybe when it’s all done I’ll be able to embrace my imperfections? Maybe.

Obviously I’m a “complex case” so it’s going to take a little time, but I’m genuinely looking forward to the next session. I just want to feel better, I want to move on from as much of it all as I humanly can. It’s so tiring being weighed down with all of what goes in my head. I just want to be free of the shackles around my mind. I just want to be free.

* EDIT *

So she told me that it could help my sleep, that I’d either get my sleep back OR the quality of sleep would improve. I think I wemt off about 10pm and as usual was up at 11pm, 2am and 4am. Here’s the clincher, I don’t feel completley done. For the first time in a LONG time I don’t feel like curling up in bed and crying, my first though wasn’t about sleeping when I’m dead, tbh it was about soup but hey, if it’s not death then it’s progress right?

* END EDIT *

Straight Girl text and asked if I wanted to meet for coffee…so I said yes, but I had bloody good reason for doing so, tonight I had a plan. I was to wait for her at the college car park and we’d go for a coffee. Tonight over a vegan latte, I told her that I’m done with whatever it is she’s going through but that I am absolutely not coming to play this game with her, that I’m not a pawn for her to exploit whilst she tries to figure out what’s going on with her. I am nobody’s fuck toy, I’m not a guinea pig, I’m not a fantasy, I’m not an experiment and I’m sure as shit not going to be anybody’s dirty little secret. I’m worth more than that.
Can someone please enlighten me as to why pretty, straight girls are SO affronted when you put your lesbian foot down and tell them no? I fear my friends, that the answer to that one is also blowing in the wind.

The tides have turned.


Last updated February 28, 2018


Loading comments...

You must be logged in to comment. Please sign in or join Prosebox to leave a comment.