Psychosomatic madness.

So yesterday, I’m in my session, and we’re talking about stuff that’s hard, but not obviously triggering, and I start getting annoyed and feeling attacked (Me: *visibly bristling*  Her: (gently) What’s going on?  Me: It’s like you’re saying I’m not trying hard enough!  Her: When did I say that?  Me: I don’t know!  I mean, you didn’t…but that’s how I feel!).  And then…BOOM.  Immediate stabbing pain in the left half of my head, like someone is shoving a white hot poker into my skull, down into my jaw, behind my eye.  And then…and then, everything starts going weird, like it’s getting smaller, and the carpet’s going all funny, so I tell her what’s happening, that I’ve immediately got a headache.  She asks me how I’m feeling, how it feels, and I tell her: that it’s like someone is shoving something into my brain and also that I’m scared I might be having a stroke, although I don’t think I am.  And then I try to regain some fucking sense of normality, but it’s not happening, I still feel like I’m a bubble that’s undulating in the wind so I sit up straight and put my feet flat on the floor to ground myself a bit, but as I explained it, “everything’s gone a bit trippy.  And not in a good way”.  We sit in silence for a while, and I feel absolutely exhausted.  I tell her that I have completely forgotten what we were talking about.  It’s like someone’s just wiped my memory – I only remembered hours later, and even then it was sketchy.  Then we start talking again (Her:  It seems like I touched a nerve.  Me, warily:  Yeah, just a bit.  I didn’t know you were into voodoo shit).  And she talks calmly and softly, radiating kindness and understanding but I’m still feeling weird, and some of it goes in and some of it doesn’t, and I know that it’s ok, that I will be ok, but I still feel completely fucking bonkers.  When I leave I’m calm but I still have the bloody headache and am having trouble staying upright, and when I get home it ends up becoming a full-blown migraine, so I have to lie down and be in darkness and not move, and then I have to be sick, and then I pass out for a bit.  The headache eventually stopped almost exactly twelve hours after it started, but it returned later this morning and is still there now, in the same place, like a snooker ball of pain behind my eye, although thankfully slightly diminished.

I’m going to try acupuncture for the first time tomorrow, and I’m quite looking forward to it.  I just wish…I just wish that this wasn’t so bloody hard.  (Her:  I know that this is really, really painful.  Me:  Yeah, well I wasn’t expecting it to be physically painful as well.  This is taking the piss.)  It’s really not fair and I’m SO TIRED of all this.  I’m feeling much better generally but man alive.  This sucks.

And of course, she’s never even implied that I’m not working hard enough, or trying hard enough.  That’s my own masochistic spin on her completely unrelated, innocent words.  Because of course if I’m not trying hard enough, then she’ll leave me; that’s what I envisage, that’s what I expect.  But I can’t really deal with that, I can’t cope with that at all.  So I guess…I guess I get it.

Earlier on in the session, we were talking about how I’ve written to my family, and how I didn’t pull any punches in what I told them, about how I am feeling and why I am feeling it, to try and get them to understand where I am at the moment.  And then (in her usual word geek way) she told me about the Spanish for “I understand” – that it translates more like, “I feel you”.  By trying to get my family to understand me, I’m trying to get them to feel me, feel some of what I went through, what I am going through.   And I don’t know…it feels a bit like my body is doing the same, that it’s saying, “I feel you”.  Because I’m so fragmented and shut down that it’s the only way it knows how.  That it can only express the pain in a physical way, that it translates that way because there are no words right now, it can’t make sense of it…it’s just pain.  Epic and completely overwhelming.  I don’t even know if that makes sense, but it feels like it does.

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