Today I saw my therapist since the first time since May.
She sees me gratis, as I can't afford therapy, so I go when she can fit me into her schedule. As those few who read my last entry know, I've had a very rough few days. The Darkness had me and wasn't letting me go.
I was fifteen minutes late to the appointment- I'd forgotten it was moved from noon to 2 PM. I entered my therapist's office, out of breath. After a moment, we started talking.
I told her EXACTLY how I was feeling- and how I felt Sunday/Monday. I gave her the details, which I haven't even told my Wife or my bestie and roomie, Linda. I will not discuss them here either, except to say that within minutes, I was crying again.
She pointed out that every time the Darkness has me, and I survive, that something I am glad I lived to see happens. While I don't agree totally with what she says, it's happened enough to make her point.
Also, The 3rd was Lisa Empanada's birthday, and the 5th anniversary of one of the most amazing and moving days of my life. This morning's facialbook memory thing brought up a post she made, and sent me into tears again.
So, we talked, my therapist and I. We discussed the thought loop in my mind that has played since I was a child ("You're worthless, useless, ugly, disgusting, and unwanted" among other adjectives.) She says I have to counter that. As it's been playing in my head for my whole conscious life (in addition to 'greatest hits' of things others have told me) it's burned into my soul.
Then of course there's the wound inflicted by my Wife nearly five years ago. And the torn out part of my soul from when Lisa died, again, nearly five years ago. Maybe these events are making "the internal recording skip." Constant repeat.
Didn't get that job? You're worthless, useless, ugly, disgusting, and unwanted. Misgendered? You're worthless, useless, ugly, disgusting, and unwanted. Wake up in the morning? You're worthless, useless, ugly, disgusting, and unwanted. Insomnia? The volume goes to 11. YOU'RE USELESS, UGLY, DISGUSTING, AND UNWANTED, but with the coda of why do you even fucking bother living?
This past weekend, a few of my fraternity brothers- my fraternity BROTHERS- called me "it", "he/she," and "tranny" during the debate for the trans-inclusive amendment to the fraternity constitution. You're worthless, useless, ugly, disgusting, and unwanted. These are people I'd never met before last week. I wanted to rip their heads off. But I remained calm. But, the damage was done- just like when my brothers at PSU would tell me "you're a transfer, and don't f*cking belong here." "You're not a real Skull." You're worthless, useless, ugly, disgusting, and unwanted.
I spent 45 minutes with my therapist, focusing on exactly how I felt, and what triggered it. (I already wrote about that last entry.) Fact is, Lisa died at 52. I'm currently 51- and next month will be 52 (funny how that works.) (Jerry Garcia died at 53- and today is the anniversary of his death.) I think about that a lot- how Lisa, despite everything she endured, made it 52 years, 1 month, and 2 weeks. I wonder if I can beat that. You're worthless, useless, ugly, disgusting, and unwanted.
No, I'm not asking for sympathy. This blog is about how I'm feeling; what I'm thinking; and trying to make sense of it all. So. I don't get satisfaction from writing any more. But I didn't want to end the blog on a total downer (if I never posted again that is.)
I was late to my appointment. I was hurrying from the parking lot to the door when a splash of color caught me attention. A flower- maybe six inches in diameter. Large, beautiful, and proud. I stopped to look at it, then took a picture.
Because sometimes, I need beauty in my life. And it was worth the minute I stopped.
Maybe I'm not too far gone.
She sees me gratis, as I can't afford therapy, so I go when she can fit me into her schedule. As those few who read my last entry know, I've had a very rough few days. The Darkness had me and wasn't letting me go.
I was fifteen minutes late to the appointment- I'd forgotten it was moved from noon to 2 PM. I entered my therapist's office, out of breath. After a moment, we started talking.
I told her EXACTLY how I was feeling- and how I felt Sunday/Monday. I gave her the details, which I haven't even told my Wife or my bestie and roomie, Linda. I will not discuss them here either, except to say that within minutes, I was crying again.
She pointed out that every time the Darkness has me, and I survive, that something I am glad I lived to see happens. While I don't agree totally with what she says, it's happened enough to make her point.
Also, The 3rd was Lisa Empanada's birthday, and the 5th anniversary of one of the most amazing and moving days of my life. This morning's facialbook memory thing brought up a post she made, and sent me into tears again.
So, we talked, my therapist and I. We discussed the thought loop in my mind that has played since I was a child ("You're worthless, useless, ugly, disgusting, and unwanted" among other adjectives.) She says I have to counter that. As it's been playing in my head for my whole conscious life (in addition to 'greatest hits' of things others have told me) it's burned into my soul.
Then of course there's the wound inflicted by my Wife nearly five years ago. And the torn out part of my soul from when Lisa died, again, nearly five years ago. Maybe these events are making "the internal recording skip." Constant repeat.
Didn't get that job? You're worthless, useless, ugly, disgusting, and unwanted. Misgendered? You're worthless, useless, ugly, disgusting, and unwanted. Wake up in the morning? You're worthless, useless, ugly, disgusting, and unwanted. Insomnia? The volume goes to 11. YOU'RE USELESS, UGLY, DISGUSTING, AND UNWANTED, but with the coda of why do you even fucking bother living?
This past weekend, a few of my fraternity brothers- my fraternity BROTHERS- called me "it", "he/she," and "tranny" during the debate for the trans-inclusive amendment to the fraternity constitution. You're worthless, useless, ugly, disgusting, and unwanted. These are people I'd never met before last week. I wanted to rip their heads off. But I remained calm. But, the damage was done- just like when my brothers at PSU would tell me "you're a transfer, and don't f*cking belong here." "You're not a real Skull." You're worthless, useless, ugly, disgusting, and unwanted.
I spent 45 minutes with my therapist, focusing on exactly how I felt, and what triggered it. (I already wrote about that last entry.) Fact is, Lisa died at 52. I'm currently 51- and next month will be 52 (funny how that works.) (Jerry Garcia died at 53- and today is the anniversary of his death.) I think about that a lot- how Lisa, despite everything she endured, made it 52 years, 1 month, and 2 weeks. I wonder if I can beat that. You're worthless, useless, ugly, disgusting, and unwanted.
No, I'm not asking for sympathy. This blog is about how I'm feeling; what I'm thinking; and trying to make sense of it all. So. I don't get satisfaction from writing any more. But I didn't want to end the blog on a total downer (if I never posted again that is.)
I was late to my appointment. I was hurrying from the parking lot to the door when a splash of color caught me attention. A flower- maybe six inches in diameter. Large, beautiful, and proud. I stopped to look at it, then took a picture.
Because sometimes, I need beauty in my life. And it was worth the minute I stopped.
Maybe I'm not too far gone.
No, you aren't. :c) Going to see your therapist, and telling her everything, is a good sign. Keep going, hon. You can do this! xoxoxo
ReplyDeleteHugs,
Cassidy
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ReplyDeleteI sent you an email. :)
DeleteYou are that beautiful flower. ❤️
ReplyDeleteDepression is like being at the bottom of a deep well. Anything bright and sunny is like a million miles away, but all of the dark, cold, slimy filth is immediate and seemingly everywhere. It's insidious because it turns the brain against itself and fucks with your perceptions and magnifies all the crap while diminishing the good. But unfortunately for all of the lies and deceit that Depression tells you, it is absolutely true about one thing: the only way out of that well is to climb out yourself. And I know how far that seems, believe me, I do.
ReplyDeleteBut here's the thing. Depression LIES. It doesn't tell you that the climb up isn't as desperately far as it looks. It doesn't tell you that you're lying on your back at the bottom of the well and just the decision to stand up every day is a victory worth celebrating. It doesn't tell you that not far up there's a ladder and the climb gets easier as you go. It doesn't tell you that you're stronger than you know and you can make that climb, just as others have made that climb. And it ABSOLUTELY doesn't tell you that while nobody but you can make that climb, there will be people there to offer their support along the way.
In a messed up way, Depression is the brain trying to protect itself. It wants to keep you safe, and safety means inaction and not trying and never putting yourself at risk. So it rewards inaction. Every defeat is an "I told you so" and every victory is dismissed as "big deal, it would have happened anyway." The cruel words of your asshole frat brothers cut deep because you feel like they're evidence of the worst things you feel about yourself, but whenever someone says something good about you it feels like hollow words. Your brain is working against itself and the feelings are all backwards, but ask yourself--deep down--and you'll know your feelings are wrong. Depression LIES. You want truth? Believe this: The assholes who said cruel things are assholes, and their awful behavior speaks to them, and not you. You have worth. You are beautiful, kind, and generous. You put others before yourself, again and again, even when you're down. You are not defined by your failures, and you will rise above them as you have in the past. And dates don't mean shit. How old other people were when they died is irrelevant, and you are racing against nobody but yourself. Every day is a gift, and every effort to climb out of that well--succeed or fail--is a victory. You are not your Depression. You are loved.
Sophie:
ReplyDeleteTry this on for size: you're valued by all your true friends, useful,to,all who know you, either in person or through following your blog for years, your beautiful to all your sisters, you are envied by many (especially we who wish we had friends as wonderful as Lisa, and Linda), and you are indeed wanted by all of us.
Lastly, remember that Jerry Garcia, Lisa, Linda, me, and the thousands who know you or know of you would all tell you to keep on truckin'.
Sophie -
ReplyDeleteThe fact that you were able to spot beauty means you will recover. Don't let the bastards get you down - there is only one of you.....
M
Good morning Sophie, I have been want to write you for some time now. I just didn't know how to say it in words, some of my thoughts. I have been reading your blogs for a few years now. You have made me cry, laugh, get angry, think, and many other emotions too. As the old commercial used to say "you've come along way baby" You have been someone I look up to. Some of us girls can't take the steps you have taken, to be where you are today. Because of fear of loosing a job, family, friends. You are a beautiful woman, I hope someday we will meet. I have read the thing you post about the area and know them fairly well. I am local and have been to Ren. in years past. We may have spoken there. I don't mean to ramble on. I guess I just feel very sad right now, that you are going through this darkness and just had to let you know, that you are in my thoughts. What Jenny said is spot on, I have been there before. Take it one day at a time and look for those beautiful flowers along the way. Hugs Faith
ReplyDeleteSophie, you have many friends, including those in the blogging community. Your friends accept and embrace you. Those who don't are non-existent. They're transphobic morons who have no place in your life. That includes your ex and your frat brothers (and I use that term loosely).
ReplyDeleteI'm not trying to be mean. I so feel for you and wish I could give you a hug. Take care, girl.
Calie xx
Dear Sophie, I read your blog from time to time and was sorry to hear of the awful time you have been having. Sending the best wishes one can by this means and hoping that therapy, the love of friends and the trans community, and the beauty around you will help you. Sue x
ReplyDelete