I get lock jaw everytime I get into therapy lately. It makes me feel like a wimp, once I leave. That little session room used to feel so safe, so comfortable, and so welcoming. I don't know where it all went.
Mr.S reassured me (again) that our sessions will continue, just in a different place, actually a different town. Can it get any worse? All his familiar things, banged, bumped, and pushed out of that comfy room and shoved, poked, and dropped into another room, in another town?
We talked for only a few minutes before he asked, "Are you isolating yourself again?"
"Yes. One hundred percent, completely, I am. I can't help it. I have even left work early because I want to be alone and I can't take all the movement. I have been numbing out a lot just to get thru the day."
"Are you using the [light stimulation] glasses?"
"Yes, that's how I'm numbing out." (smiles and looks down embarrassed)
I probably should have told him more of the truth. What I should have said was, "I not only isolate myself, but I've been cut by Smoke. And then, I sometimes wait till dusk and I drive down town, just to feel close to the people I see there. I pretend I have a reason to be there, as if I have somewhere important to be and I'm in a rush to get there. Then, I just watch people as they hug a friend, climb into their cars, or walk along the sidewalk holding a child's hand and laugh and play along their way. I even watch the stray cat or two as they dart between the cars and I pretend, in my head, to know them... crazy cat, you shouldn't be out here in traffic...
I should have told him I get how panicked I get when I actually have to leave the safety of my car and walk thru the automatic doors [they are so scary sometimes!] to pick up a perscription [there's a window, why didn't I just use that?]. Oh, yeah, I had to come in to pick up my friend's birthday card. Gawd, it's going to take forever, but not to worry, there aren't many people in here.
And all of a sudden, the place is packed with people laughing, talking, kids shouting. I should have told him how my heart begins to thrum and air vacates my lungs with such force I think I've choked on my own spit. I forget why I'm there, and by then I don't care, and being walking toward the door. I walk as slow as possible so as not to draw attention. That's when I notice my hands are sweating. Oh, that's not good.
Just as I think I'm about to pass out from lack of oxygen, I see my car. Long before I reach it, I've pressed the "Open" button on the FOB and the lights blink a welcome until, at last, I open the door. I practically throw myself down onto the car seat so I can quickly close the door. Aahhh, finally, I suck in a breath of air. As I put on my seat belt and start the car, my eyes dart around to be sure there is no one I know watching me, wondering why I sprinted past them without speaking.
Yeah, I probably should have told him all that, but I didn't. I was sick to my stomach by the time I left the session. My next appointment is next Saturday.