So the Doc's back this week....that's over three weeks since I have had any contact with her. She went somewhere where she wasn't sure her cell would work...or how much it would cost and I am pretty sure she doesn't get her email outside of the VA. So....despite quite a few shitty experiences, I am kind of proud AND yet sad, that I made it for three whole weeks with out emailing, calling, or texting her.
I am proud becuase it makes me realize that I, ME, made it through those rough times with the flashbacks, the horrible memories, and the other shit of misery. Despite being at a Luaua and having to strenously fight to remember that I was in Hawaii and NOT at Camp Anaconda, I made it through without having to call the Doc. That was REALLY hard becuase I really wanted to talk with her and felt like I needed help. Another time that was a bitch was when I actually had some time to hang with a friend who lived out there. We got a little drunk...although I didn't drink anywhere near as much as I "felt" like I did the next morning...but I think that's a whole nother issue. In any event, I woke up VERY early at my buddies house, despite having gotten back from the bar a few hours earlier. I was up for the day and fucking miserable so I decided to turn on my radio and check out the Hawaiian music scene....dumb fucking choice and I didn't even see it coming!!!!! A song came on that was popular when I was a kid...when I was a kid going through the second round of sexual abuse by a new group of fuckheads. I have a very clear memory now....and I don't know why it never bothered me before or why I had never remembered it before...of that song playing on the TV in the babysitters living room while the daughter wanted me to smell her fucking feet. Somehow this led to us playing in the back room...which was me more or less having to do all this stupid shit while being naked. It was that day, when her mom, the fucking babysitter, came in the room and my second round of hell...and in a lot of ways the WORST round...began. The woman was crazy. She had us punished by the husband, but then she was all nice and sweet...while having us get undressed all the way. I am not going into details here becuase it fucking makes me want to puke my life and soul out...maybe be dead. Is that so bad an idea sometimes???? I don't know how to answer that one. All I know is that I get confused to this day when it comes to what people, especially women, are thinking or wanting when they seem to be in too much of one extreme mood. This woman was "nice" about us (there were four of us kids there, including their two kids) getting raped. She was screaming about how bad it was that I had my pants off...and I was about 6/7 fucking years old, laughing when her husband spanked our bare asses, and then all sweet and not wanting him to "hurt us" while we got abused by that fuck and her.
OK....gotten myself a LOT worked up now...gonna stop thinking and writing about it. The point was that I was, I think, well within reason of HAVING to call the Doc, or her stand-in, but that I didn't. I breathed, and rationalized, and centered my way through each time until each hell or memory or thought or feeling went away.
I was also sad though that I was able to do this. Not sad in a miserable or depressed way...but then I am not sure in what way it was though. The big bottom line is that I just MISSED my Doc. I'd say it's about 50/50 on what I missed. I mean, I needed the sessions and I REALLY could have used her help during those times. But I also think of her as a friend and since I don't have that many (maybe 3???) and I try to talk to them every week....it was kinda sad not being able to talk with the Doc. Plus, there is the realization that whatever her trip was (work, vacation, honeymoon, Antartica, Barbados, ets.)...it's really none of my business. I guess it really pisses me off too. I remember when my mother's shrink would go to lunch with her twenty years ago. Now, there are so many fucking rules, and maybe some of them are the Doc's choice, but there is apparently NO way that we could ever be real friends. I believe that I will never be able to invite her over to a BBQ with my wife, kids, and other friends or that, as another example, I have NO business asking her any personal questions (which does seem onesided no matter HOW you slice it).
I think I have lamented on this before, and it is somewhat...bad?...that I am apparently so bothered by this. I sometimes wonder how much of my feelings for the Doc I am ignoring or glossing over...and how much of that really matters any. The important thing is that I found a Doc that I can trust, who has the kick-ass skills to help me, and who's one of the best people I have EVER met!!!!
No comments:
Post a Comment