I thought that the effects of my abuse were becoming manageable. I had learned coping skills for moments of anxiety or periods of darkness. I had my little pile that I could pull from.
Yesterday seemed to open up a black hole in me. One that I did not realize that was there. One that made me realize just how far the abuse went and would go.
A conversation happened yesterday that put all of the cards on the table. That stated in pure terms how because of my trauma, I could not handle the stresses of a field placement. Not even a job.
Is this how I am seen by others? Do those closest to me see me as nothing more than my illness? Have they given up hope of me one day moving on?
Today, I am numb. I just want to be left alone and stay in the house. I want to attempt to deal with the reality of how many parts of me are broken and how severe the breaks are. The unseen wounds are there and run deep. They are the scars left behind from all that went on. Yesterday, just proved how others see them as weak when I see them as a strength.
For now, I just want to be able to see my doctors today and tomorrow and forget about school and all that comes with it. Maybe by the weekend I will have a better outlook and more hope.
The array of treatment choices is daunting. Finding out what works is an even more difficult struggle. What won’t make me feel worse, what does not cause weight gain, what does not cause sleep issues etc. For me the worst side effect was tardive disconesia. My extremities shook to the point that I could not complete everyday tasks, my speech slurred, I had problems swallowing. Yet even with all of that I regret that I had to go off of the medicine. It actually took the symptoms away, it just gave me to many more.
Evidence based practice is a big term right now in the world of psychology. Part of me thinks that they are trying to be more clinical. To find the magic button. There is not a magic button when working with people. Sure, hand washing and personal protective equipment prevent transference of germs. How are my flashbacks supposed to lesson? At that point what works for me may not work for the next person.
If a treatment worked for everyone we would not need hospitals, therapists, psychiatrists, and medical specialists. I wish that I could go in one day and there would be the elusive cure just waiting. A cure that would take all of the symptoms away. Yet, there is nothing that will work for all of us. We are all just a little different. Our thoughts and past events are different.
Treatment providers struggle to find the right combination. I know that as a patient, it feels horrible. Even after a treatment works,life happens and the treatment needs to be shifted. I wish that there was something that would make all of the horrible feelings go away right now. Instead I have to live with what I am going through. There is no one size fits all solution that I can turn too.
I have loved dance ever since I can remember. The smell of the studio and the leotards and tights. The barre exercises and combinations going across the floor.
At almost 40, I decided to pursue a dream of getting a dance degree. This first semester has not been easy and has tested my emotional and physical strength more than once. The fibromyalgia and the wave of exhaustion it brings on have been a challenge.
I am being considered as an instructor for a rec council next year. Right now, I am assisting with their recital. It is so energizing to see the young dancers and the joy in their face as they move. That is what dance always was . A way to be free. While backstage with them last night, their excitement was palpable.
Can I teach? Can I choreograph? Will I do a good job? These are questions that I will never know the answer to unless I try. If I am offered a position, I think I may take it. It would be a way for me to share what I love with students. Not bad for a part-time job!!