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Donna Mae DePola - Guest Speaker Chat ...May 25th 2013 ... for more information please read this!
There is still plenty of time and spaces if you'd like to sign up for the Guest Speaker Chat scheduled for this Saturday!
There is still plenty of time and spaces if you'd like to sign up for the Guest Speaker Chat scheduled for this Saturday!
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I just had a flashback of an accident I had last winter. I was headed to my aunt's for Christmas dinner; I'd never been there before, it was at night and there was a snow storm, I didn't see the curve. I tried to break but nothing happened. I just slid... right on to a telephone pole. Then, black.
The flashback stops. I try to remember what happened before the car fliped, but it gets all fuzzy, and black and empty. A bit like I remember my prostitution.
I think I understand the extent of trauma I've had to have lived to remember my life in big blocks of nothing.
Nothing to remember. Memories lost. Like someone erased the hard-drive. Like when I had the accident and I can't remember the moment before I thought I was about to die.
The brain protects us. I remember reading that somewhere a long time ago. We forget to protect ourselves...
I feel like I can't feel because I'm still protecting myself. I don't talk about the 'real things' in therapy. I can't touch on emotional stuff, just like I can't describe how I feel when something bad happened. Because I don't want to go there. I can, if I scrath a bit at it, feel stress, like the stress that my flashback caused me. But I can't get to the bottom of it. I don't want to. I can't feel the rest - the fear. Block out.
Now, it doesn't even have to be traumatic for me to block it out. It's every time I've been with a man since my prostitution. I've never, ever been 'there'. I don't remember first kisses let alone the rest. Gone.
I think I have to talk about these things when I start seeing Mrs E. again. Hopefully we can pick up where we left off in January.
I had to stop seeing her for financial reasons.
But in other news, things are looking up. I have a bit of money coming in and an interview next Wednesday.
The flashback stops. I try to remember what happened before the car fliped, but it gets all fuzzy, and black and empty. A bit like I remember my prostitution.
I think I understand the extent of trauma I've had to have lived to remember my life in big blocks of nothing.
Nothing to remember. Memories lost. Like someone erased the hard-drive. Like when I had the accident and I can't remember the moment before I thought I was about to die.
The brain protects us. I remember reading that somewhere a long time ago. We forget to protect ourselves...
I feel like I can't feel because I'm still protecting myself. I don't talk about the 'real things' in therapy. I can't touch on emotional stuff, just like I can't describe how I feel when something bad happened. Because I don't want to go there. I can, if I scrath a bit at it, feel stress, like the stress that my flashback caused me. But I can't get to the bottom of it. I don't want to. I can't feel the rest - the fear. Block out.
Now, it doesn't even have to be traumatic for me to block it out. It's every time I've been with a man since my prostitution. I've never, ever been 'there'. I don't remember first kisses let alone the rest. Gone.
I think I have to talk about these things when I start seeing Mrs E. again. Hopefully we can pick up where we left off in January.
I had to stop seeing her for financial reasons.
But in other news, things are looking up. I have a bit of money coming in and an interview next Wednesday.
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