The therapist leaves for vacation tomorrow.   It always slays me that T’s want to spend the whole session before their vacation talking about how you are going to deal with their vacation.  Which, it doesn’t seem to matter what I say about it – she always asks something different.  I don’t get it.  She was gone over Christmas one year and I was way suicidal and when I told her I didn’t think I could keep myself safe she told me I wasn’t three and I should act like an adult.  Once I was incredibly angry when she went on vacation and she was frustrated.  I mean,  I don’t blame her for that, can’t I be happy that she’s taking a vacation –it isn’t really fair for me to be angry.  So I’m not angry and now she’s wondering why. For real!

Today, I decided early on that I didn’t want to delve into any of the material that she asked me to work on last week because it’s really not a good idea to get into something highly emotional and distressing for me when she’s going to be gone for a week, climbing rocks with Rocky in the wilderness with no phone service.   So I told her I was fine.

Don’t I look *fine*?  Therapist said, “Sometimes what’s on the outside isn’t an accurate picture of what’s going on inside.  Just because you look fine doesn’t mean you are fine…you know you pretend to be fine a lot.” Um, yah, like 95% of the time I *pretend*.  With everyone except you…. And she was all, “Sometimes even me.”  Yeah, I guess so… Like what am I supposed to do?  Tell the *truth* and risk her being all worried or frustrated with me right before she leaves for vacation?  No…  So I told her not to fall from a cliff and she said, “Are you worried I might fall off a cliff and not come back?”  Typical therapist response, eh?  I said, “No, I’m not.  You’re a big girl and I think you can take care of yourself.”  But what I was thinking was, “No, I’m more worried that I am going to fall off a cliff to my death while you’re gone.”  Which, if that does happen, I suppose I could call the “back-up” shrink she provided to me today- on a very aesthetically pleasing business card.  Nice prep work since she’s never had a back up before during her vacations.  Of course I have no idea who this chick is or what her office hours are – or “crisis” management protocol….just her name on her business card.   Not that I would call her anyway. 

I told therapist I went off my meds.  Well, I went off of them when I found out I was pregnant and then never started taking them again.  Therapist told me I should call PDOC to let her know – I told her I would take that under advisement, but I’m not going to call.  I’m not going to call PDOC because I’m way embarrassed about the therapist calling her a couple of weeks ago and told her I was abusing my meds.  I suppose if she’s that concerned about it she could call PDOC herself…not like she hasn’t done it before.  When the therapist told me she was going on vacation I thought I would make an appointment with PDOC, maybe just for grounding sake, but now that the therapist called her, I’m not. 

Last night I was overwhelmed with anxiety and horrid flashbacks complete with physical memories that are still screaming at me but I’m trying really hard not to acknowledge right now. It certainly wasn’t something that could be resolved in an hour today – and I can’t seem to make it go away.  It won’t go away and it leaves me in tears and terrified, out of breath and sick.  Physically sick.  The anxiety has built to the point that if I eat it comes right back up.  My head is throbbing, my shoulders, collar bone, and hips ache to the point that no amount of heat, ice, or aleve will take away the pain.  I haven’t slept in a few days and a cloud of dread is looming over me right now, making me feel as though I am stuck in a damp, dark cave. 

But if I would have even mentioned any of that today I would have felt worse because I would have needed her to help me, or comfort me, or I don’t know what…but it would have made things worse because then she would know how bad I feel and the 5 year old who is currently huddled in fear and pain would have felt like she didn’t care because she’ll be gone for a week, which would have had an unstoppable domino effect on the rest of Grace…the teenager would have been pissed off – then PAG would have become Ms. Destructo…and on, and on, and on. 

It’s better this way.  What was the alternative?  Plead for a *transitional trinket*?  Beg her to email me before she goes with some “comforting” words?  Ask for her to record something for me to listen to while she’s gone?  I dunno…I think I would have been better if last night hadn’t happened and I could just shove it all away for awhile – because it’s not going away.  It isn’t going away.  It just keeps pushing me closer and closer to the edge of the cliff of sanity today – with no coach, no spotter, no safety net.   But I’m not talking about any of that.  I’ll just be over here in the corner coloring, putting this puzzle together, playing barbies…that’s better than hurting, weeping, screaming in front of her when there isn’t a damn thing she can do to help me with it right now.

After I left, I sat in my car and cried.  And then I sat my office and cried.  And now I’m crying while I write this.   I don’t feel well at all.  It really never ends.  But I guess I am quite good at pretending to be okay…I only wish I could fool myself.