Dream therapy

You know you are fooked up when your old therapist has to come into your dreams to make a house call.

Not that I don't mind seeing my old T, but its a bit unsettling to be therapetized while dreaming.

I have certain dreams that set my alarm bells to ringing and are HUGE red flags that the breaks are failing and I am about to go careening over the edge. Those I listen to and take steps to prevent further decline.

But I have never been able to figure out the therapy dreams.

I always awake with a peaceful feeling that borders on ??? Something I can't quite grasp.

This week I have disconnected from the planet and just focused on my family. It felt good to just be in the moment. To do things because I wanted to vs cause I had too.

They injected cortisone into my elbow on the 13th and I have been pain free since. I can't tell you how WONDERFUL that feels after 2 months of constant pain. That has helped tremendously with my anxiety.

For those of you without anxiety, let me give you a brief idea how the game is played:

arm hurts
Anxiety: OMG YOU'RE DYING!!

stomach aches
Anxiety: OMG YOU'RE DYING!!

headache
Anxiety: OMG YOU'RE DYING!!

pimple on skin
Anxiety: OMG YOU'RE DYING!!

Get the picture?

Its gets exhausting having to convince yourself  that every ache, pain, rash, bump isn't life threatening.

I used to give myself a half dozen or so "terminal days" (vs sick days) each year in my 20/30's.

Days I just woke up and my depression/anxiety would grumbled..."gaahh, I feel like I'm dying..."


I would counter back with: "That is because you are."


My mood would perk up instantly and I lived that day like it was my last. No worries or concerns, just peaceful bliss that everything no longer mattered cause I was checking out. Everything lifted from me. Responsible for just breathing and nothing else.


"Dying" somehow eased the anxiety, to a point it left.


Living with chronic anxiety and PTSD my whole life has left me with a strange side effect that I have termed...Pre-traumatic stress disorder (PreTSD)

I am so used to the rug getting pulled out from under me that I start to anticipate it before it happens.  When it doesn't come I get anxious. I am walking around flinching the hit that never comes.

I wish I could do serious research on this subject.

I have seen a correlation between a history of abuse and the healing process and learning to live with PreTSD. That abused kids minds get so accustom to living in a chaotic violent world that when the abuse ends they fumble a bit in the new unfamiliar head space.

Case in point:

My T got a frantic call from me one night and the conversation when like this:

Me: something isn't right. I don't like this, it's frightening. I DON'T LIKE IT!!
Richard: Take a deep breath and tell me what is going on.
Me: (deep breath) *launched into a long spiel of what is going on*
Richard: (cutting in) P. P, whoa.
Me: I'm going crazy arn't I? What is it? What does it sound like?
Richard: Its sounds like...you are happy.
me: whaa!!?? Well I don't like it ...it feels weird!

Literally I had never had that level of contentment and non-chaos in my lifetime. I had to learn to be comfortable with the simple task of being happy.

I used this knowledge in my work with Alzheimer's patients.  Rather then force their damaged brains to conform to the normal rules of life, I learned the normal rules of their brains. There was a lot less confrontations and behavior issues when they were comfortable in what made sense for their brains.

What is normal for one is hell for another. And visa versa.

Which is totally why Richard still has to come therapitize me in my dreams. I wonder if I should mail him a check for last nights marathon session?