I love it when it rains hard (but we have no need to go outside). I love the sound of the rain falling on the metal roof. It makes me appreciate the warmth and coziness of the house. There were several bouts of heavy rain yesterday, and it remained dark and ominous looking outside. I loved reading on my chaise and having my new electric blanket keeping me toasty warm (and using less wood for the fire).
My session with Dr. Shoja was a doozy. I read her a part of a post on my blog:
I thought about if I should be quitting Dr. S. because she asked me if I wanted to stop seeing her last month. She asked me because I was so happy about a having a sense of cohesion in my understanding of my life story.
This is all about one word: Neglect. Just typing that makes me cry. I keep saying to myself: I do not want to be a neglected child. I kept thinking about that for a long time, and then one day I said to myself: But you knew that. All your stories are about their absence. So, I wondered: Why does it hurt so much to hear Dr. S. use the word, ‘neglect?’
It's a good question.
Is it because it feels unfair that Connie and Don—Clyde was busy—get a second kick at the can. Is it because it’s punishment of the innocent?
Is it because hearing Dr. S. say that word out loud makes it all real?
It just keeps coming back to the same old thing: I don’t want to be a neglected child. I really, really, really don’t want to be it.
When I wrote this post, I heard from Beth as I so often do, and she asked me why I was so invested in ‘not wanting to be that guy’ (who was neglected). I told her I didn’t know and that it surprised me too, to be so vehement in my desire not to be the abandoned guy, the neglected guy.
So, I asked Dr. S. why, and when I asked her, I ended saying, “I just really, really don’t want to be that guy. That’s what I keep wanting to say.”
And she replied, “You don’t want to be that guy because …?” And I said I didn’t know, but I also said, “It’s all so Dickensian, so Oliver Twist, so David Copperfield.”
And then she said that I don’t want to feel the pain that I buried so very, very long ago, but that lately she’s been happy to notice that I’m talking about neglect more and feeling that long-buried pain when we talk. She added that although it’s hard for me, she is proud of the progress she is seeing in me. She also confirmed that the mania/euphoria I felt from prednisone is well understood.
I’m always exhausted after a session with her, so when we were done, I fed the brood and then I planned to rest but the clinic called and I had to go into the village to take a note to the clinic, and then I went to the pharmacy to pick up three prescriptions, and order another. Sheesh! Once, back home, I dropped everything off and then went trail walking with Sheba in gentle rain.
At dinner time, there was a torrential downpour making the house noisy with the sound of the rain on the roof. I fed the pets, made my dinner, got comfy on the chaise and turned on the TV.
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When I got up at 5:30, I went out to get wood for the fire and I was very pleasantly surprised to see the sky full of stars, and in a matter of a few seconds, I saw a shooting star and then a satellite slowly crossing over me. But when it came time to go to meet our friends to trail walk together, the sky had clouded over, the wind was up, and it felt like we’d soon be getting rain.
I am looking forward to a lovely slow day with books and pets and no appointments at all. In fact, no appointments at all until Tuesday when I get another Covid shot.
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