persistent thoughts (spoiler: possible triggers)
Question:
Last night in the car, on the way back from a pleasant afternoon with friends, I became convinced that the votive candle I had left burning had somehow been knocked over, and that I would return to find the house burned down. Despite telling myself that this was only a remote possibility, and there was nothing I could do about it, I could not banish the thought. The image to returning to a smouldering husk of a house kept turning over and over in my mind. The smell of fire invaded my nostrils. my stomach clenched in terror at the thought of losing everything once again–and of some of the things that I had rescued before and which are irreplaceable being gone. Those colors, the colors of the room where my lover and partner died, black and sulphur-yellow, tinted everything. Gar. I really wish I could afford a therapist. -Sved
Response:
L. Deerfield, I am not being a smart-aleck, but maybe you cannot afford not to have a therapist. What you did describe about your trauma, is something that would be hard for any human to deal with alone. I do not know where you are from, but here in the Midwest we have (for example) a 4-County Mental Health facility. It has a clinic in our county and the adjoining other 3 counties, and they base the pay on what you make. It is very reasonable. If you have not already done so I would seriously check every avenue for a place where you can go for help. The emotional scars will heal faster, and you could get some relief from the pain you are having. By not going for help other problems could surface, like (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) that is when you go back and check and re-check things. Keep us posted, Don L.Deerfield <sved…@best.com> wrote in article <6jb4qb$52…@shell15.ba.best.com>… – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text -> Last night in the car, on the way back from a pleasant afternoon > with friends, I became convinced that the votive candle I had left > burning had somehow been knocked over, and that I would return to > find the house burned down. Despite telling myself that this was > only a remote possibility, and there was nothing I could do about > it, I could not banish the thought. The image to returning to a > smouldering husk of a house kept turning over and over in my mind. > The smell of fire invaded my nostrils. my stomach clenched in > terror at the thought of losing everything once again–and of some > of the things that I had rescued before and which are irreplaceable > being gone. Those colors, the colors of the room where my lover and > partner died, black and sulphur-yellow, tinted everything. > Gar. I really wish I could afford a therapist. > -Sved
Response:
Hi Sved! Two thoughts which may or may not apply to you. :/ > Last night in the car, on the way back from a pleasant afternoon > with friends, I became convinced that the votive candle I had left > burning had somehow been knocked over, and that I would return to > find the house burned down. Despite telling myself that this was > only a remote possibility, and there was nothing I could do about > it, I could not banish the thought. The image to returning to a > smouldering husk of a house kept turning over and over in my mind.
This one I used to have a lot. I was an on-the-road sales person and had re-entry about every two weeks. Before therapy my saving thought was that I had paid the insurance and, so long as people were not injured, ’so be it’. That was the comfort I gave to myself and it gave me some peace. Since therapy, I have been able to go a little deeper. Both the possibility that I did not want to return to my home because of something/someone inside it was making me unhappy (and I did not necessarily know who or what) and the possibility that I could not ‘handle’ the happiness I had experienced on-the-road and was punishing myself for ‘having a good time’ … both of these possibilities are now things that I can think about when I get these feelings. While I am not saying that I have escaped from the thoughts of my house no longer being approximately the way I left it, I now can use the feeling to sort through my ‘real’ problems. By the way, this reality check works for me for robbery and blood-spattered walls from a murder, as well as fire. :/ > The smell of fire invaded my nostrils. my stomach clenched in > terror at the thought of losing everything once again–and of some > of the things that I had rescued before and which are irreplaceable > being gone. Those colors, the colors of the room where my lover and > partner died, black and sulphur-yellow, tinted everything.
IMHO ‘things’ are just that: things. Not havings ‘things’ is very comforting … no maintenance, no requirement to dust, look at, consider, think about. I have gotten rid of ‘tons’ of things in the last 3 years. One of my signs of recovery was to learn more about simplicity and the lack of things. Both you and I are more than the sum of our things! > Gar. I really wish I could afford a therapist.
I wish you could also. A psychiatrist with some medications to reduce your symptoms to a more manageable level would be nice, also. Smile and there will be _something_ to smile about! Nancy
Response:
Don <pts…@rtcol.com> wrote: >L. Deerfield, >I am not being a smart-aleck, but maybe you cannot afford not to have a >therapist. What you did describe about your trauma, is something that >would be hard for any human to deal with alone.
Thank you. I wouldn’t have thought you were being flippant. But I’m not making *any* money at present. I am helping a friend take care of his house (and doing a very little bit of help with his new company) in exchange for room and board, and about fifty buck every two weeks of spending money. In the next couple of months we hope to have investors in the new company, and I am to go on slalry as soon as there is an income above expenses…but I also have some physical health problems that require attention. >I do not know where you are from, but here in the Midwest we have (for >example) a 4-County Mental Health facility. It has a clinic in our county >and the adjoining other 3 counties, and they base the pay on what you make. > It is very reasonable. If you have not already done so I would seriously >check every avenue for a place where you can go for help. The emotional >scars will heal faster, and you could get some relief from the pain you are >having. By not going for help other problems could surface, like >(Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) that is when you go back and check and >re-check things. >Keep us posted, >Don
I need to go out and do some footwork, and find out where I can get cheap/free/delayed payment health/mental health care. I just have to go do it…I’m sure I can find something. Thanks for your response. -Sved – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text ->L.Deerfield <sved…@best.com> wrote in article ><6jb4qb$52…@shell15.ba.best.com>… >> Last night in the car, on the way back from a pleasant afternoon >> with friends, I became convinced that the votive candle I had left >> burning had somehow been knocked over, and that I would return to >> find the house burned down. Despite telling myself that this was >> only a remote possibility, and there was nothing I could do about >> it, I could not banish the thought. The image to returning to a >> smouldering husk of a house kept turning over and over in my mind. >> The smell of fire invaded my nostrils. my stomach clenched in >> terror at the thought of losing everything once again–and of some >> of the things that I had rescued before and which are irreplaceable >> being gone. Those colors, the colors of the room where my lover and >> partner died, black and sulphur-yellow, tinted everything. >> Gar. I really wish I could afford a therapist. >> -Sved
Response:
kipco <ki…@concentric.net> wrote: >Hi Sved! >Two thoughts which may or may not apply to you. :/ >> Last night in the car, on the way back from a pleasant afternoon >> with friends, I became convinced that the votive candle I had left >> burning had somehow been knocked over, and that I would return to >> find the house burned down. Despite telling myself that this was >> only a remote possibility, and there was nothing I could do about >> it, I could not banish the thought. The image to returning to a >> smouldering husk of a house kept turning over and over in my mind. >This one I used to have a lot. I was an on-the-road sales person and had >re-entry about every two weeks.
Well, the fire specifically comes from the way my lover died… >Since therapy, I have been able to go a little deeper. Both the >possibility that I did not want to return to my home because of >something/someone inside it was making me unhappy (and I did not >necessarily know who or what) and the possibility that I could not >’handle’ the happiness I had experienced on-the-road and was punishing >myself for ‘having a good time’ … both of these possibilities are now >things that I can think about when I get these feelings.
I do think that some of the second–not letting myself have a good time, is involved. (How can I let myself enjoy life when Patrick is dead…that sort of emotional anti-logic) But not so much wanting to not return to the house as a fear of not having a home to return to…after being homeless for a year under some very harsh circumstances, this is a big one that hovers around the edges of my consciousness. >> The smell of fire invaded my nostrils. my stomach clenched in >> terror at the thought of losing everything once again–and of some >> of the things that I had rescued before and which are irreplaceable >> being gone. Those colors, the colors of the room where my lover and >> partner died, black and sulphur-yellow, tinted everything. >IMHO ‘things’ are just that: things. Not havings ‘things’ is very >comforting … no maintenance, no requirement to dust, look at, consider, >think about. I have gotten rid of ‘tons’ of things in the last 3 years. >One of my signs of recovery was to learn more about simplicity and the >lack of things. Both you and I are more than the sum of our things!
I already lost everything I owned twice in the last three years. I was down to a small (carry-on size) gymbag as of seven months ago. Now I need a medium-sized suitcase as well. And that’s mostly clothes…which are nice, especially if your home is gone, but I can replace them. Mostly what worried me was that I realized that I would lose my diaries from my time in Prague with Patrick, and the last copy of his magical record…which is invaluable. I don’t want to carry these things with me everywhere–maybe I should just type them onto a disk and carry that, along with my disk of my poetry that I already carry…and a couple of other irreplacable items…(the tarot deck that I bought for Pat when I first met him and we somehow managed to hold >> Gar. I really wish I could afford a therapist. >I wish you could also. A psychiatrist with some medications to reduce >your symptoms to a more manageable level would be nice, also. >Smile and there will be _something_ to smile about! >Nancy
Thanks for all of your support, folks. -Sved
