Tuesday, April 5, 2011

He Says It's Normal

Update:  I had a session yesterday. I tried to explain the chaos I talked about in my last post. He kept telling me (basically) that it is normal. He said even he has times when he can't concentrate on what's going on in the present.
I didn't want to keep contradicting him, so I just listened after a minute.

Sometimes, I can say only a few words and be understood by everyone, other times, I can speak volumes and can't get through to anyone! Unless my T is DID, he didn't understand.

Maybe he was thinking that I meant I concentrate on something else, when I should be taking part in the current conversation: Sort of, only I'm not concentrating. I'm strung out along the track of all the color I see, waiting to be set free.

Maybe he thinks it's like when I just daydream. Hardly. I'm not conscience enough to be dreaming.

Maybe he thinks I just have "too  much on my plate" and I can't focus on anything else. Nope. I have no life, nothing on my plate at all, actually.

See? I can't describe it. No wonder I feel as if T didn't understand.

Okay, one more time: It's like when a box full of puppies is tipped up on only one end and they all go sliding to the other end. Each one is being pressed sideways by the others around her and they all begin to try to get their little noses up high so they can stretch up, thereby, crawl to the top of the dog pile. Each time one of them gets up a bit higher, someone will move, the high one will slide back down and a different one gets her chance. The box is my mind. I don't concentrate on it - I feel it, I disappear into it, under it. I get lost in the chaos of it.

Do you think he would understand that? Or am I still at the bottom of the box?

.

3 comments:

Bee said...

My T has told me the exact same thing and I know she doesn't understand what I'm talking about even though she says she does.

"Maybe he was thinking that I meant I concentrate on something else, when I should be taking part in the current conversation: Sort of, only I'm not concentrating. I'm strung out along the track of all the color I see, waiting to be set free." This happens at least a couple of times a day for me, I'm assuming it's probably the same for you too?

I describe it like this - It's like a force that slowly sucks you out of the "driver seat". You can still see out the windshield but you're too far away to reach the steering wheel. Most of the time you don't try to reach the wheel, but when you do try it feels near impossible. The seat belt is keeping you back. I literally have to fight my way back (or cut myself out of the seat belt) to be in the driver seat again.

If you want to relate it to day dreaming, since that's your T's frame of reference - for me, it feels the same, AT FIRST, as the way it feels when I drift off into a day dream, only instead I'm not in control. I have no thoughts, I'm not concentrating. When I realize that I've drifted into this state I try to fight my way back but it is very difficult. If I was day dreaming I could snap right out of it.

Sorry I've written a novel. I hope this helps, even a tiny bit.

Ivory said...

Bee - Yes! I like the steering wheel analogy! This probably sounds silly, but I'm relieved to know that SOMEONE, besides me, understands what I'm talking about! Thanks.

Kate said...

I understand.

I have gone through that with people and with therapists. When I am talking about something complex, about being multiple, they think oh of course you are going through what I go through, what everyone goes through, but that is not what I am talking about. I am talking about being multiple.

I have a recurring dream that describes this feeling to me. I am in a car and it is driving down the road. But I am trying to drive it from the back seat. No one else is there in the driver seat. And I am driving the car. The anxiety and fear is very high. The car is going, but I don't have a lot of control. In the dream I can't imagine how come the car is still going since I cannot touch the pedals and trying to drive the car with the "force" is exhausting and no matter how hard I try, I never feel safe or competent. Well who could?

Good and healing thoughts to you.

Kate