I am determined to heal myself, dammit. My mom left me a little bit of money. Enough to pay off one of our major debts. And enough that I can spend some on healing myself. Because the damned insurance doesn't cover much (except my psychotherapy, thankfully).
- I have my totally cool mobility scooter (think razor scooter on steroids). Now I can do some fun things without so much pain!
- I set up my bounce back fitness chair today. Now I can exercise without pain.
- I have my 20 pound weighted blanket. Now I can get the ersatz "touch" I need to help me ground better. It doesn't totally solve the issue, but it helps quite a bit.
- I bought a stool for the shower. Now I can shower without pain!
- I have sheepskin boots for my feet and a sherpa lined robe for my body and fleece mittens for my hands. Now I can fend off the Reynaud's symptoms without practically climbing into the fireplace.
- I have a heated throw! Now I can meditate without getting so cold!
- I have a series of Tara Brach guided meditations that I really like!
- I have a fabulous psychotherapist.
- I like my group therapist.
- I like the new pain psychologist with whom I will met for 6-8 sessions.
The only thing really missing right now is finding a physician who understands mind-body medicine, noise-canceling headphones, a handicapped parking pass, and a handicap public transportation pass. But I'm sure I will think of some more things.
It has finally dawned on me that at this point, I actually know more than most of the people who are treating me. I suppose I have known for a while what i need to be doing...but I just couldn't "give in" and allow myself to do some of these things. Just kept thinking it would get better if I could just push through. Well, I can't. Things are getting worse, not better. And I have realized that if I don't start taking my issues seriously, my body will just come up with some new and hideous way to make me listen to it.
Although last week was pretty tough with realizations about the reality of my situation (VERY roller-coastery. VERY "dark night of the soul" stuff), the real kicker came on Sunday night when some part "hijacked" me on my way home from my writing group meeting. Instead of driving home at 10 PM, I ended up at the beach where I used to walk my dog. Not a particularly good place to be alone at night. I was pretty dissociated. Finally came out of it and got myself home by 11:30. I have not told my therapist about it, but I did tell my husband. Then yesterday I had a complete crash--physical, mental, emotional.
I just can't seem to manage to put together all the healing pieces I need to do into a workable program. Yoda could help me with this (Jedi training, LOL) but then we wouldn't have time for actual therapy. So that's kind of a problem. The new pain psychologist (pain lady) is supposed to help me learn how to pace myself better so I don't get caught in this push-crash cycle that has pretty much dominated my life.
There is so much going on in my head and my body. Some good, some miserable. I am practicing radical acceptance, radical compassion, radical resting, etc. Today, I took three long naps. It does help. I don't want to live like this, but it does help me feel better. Maybe it won't always be like this. I do know I have learned that my parts tend to hijack me more when I am tired or overwhelmed.
Oh well, so much for the babbling. Time (past time...way past time) to make dinner.