April 2, 2012
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I Need a yellow brick road..
Today I saw my therapist, it has been 4 or 5 months. I saw her a few times last year. It is nice to have so may constant, concrete things. ( I can't believe YOU are still here.) I went to see her because she had said to me, and to my occupational therapist, that she would like to see me at least twice before she goes away on maternity leave at the end of May. Off I trotted.
Yes, my occupational therapist. A rather nice, softly spoken, gentle person who encourages me to take naps and not push myself. 6 months after the worlds stupidest head injury, I float between doing as she suggests, and getting entirely bored of being unwell, and doing the opposite. I have an arsenal of people on my case - from my case manager, my neurologist, my neuropsychologist... aughhh the effing neuropsychologist what a bloody maggot she was. I had to go for this assessment for memory, attention, blah blah, and it kicked off with a clinical interview. Being a naive idiot, I answered her questions relatively honestly. I hadn't really counted on her writing a goddamn fucking report on me detailing said interview! Needless to say, it was not the most attractive portraitthat I have had painted. My history of 'numerous psychological issues including anorexia and an anxiety disorder, my use of recreational drugs made me appear like a junkie, and thank the lord I lied about how much alcohol I drink, because as it was, she suggested that a referral to CADS may be appropriate! (Community alcohol and drug services). Sigh. Fucking woman. That bloody American, she has been named in this portion of my life!!!
Amanda asked me if I was writing. I explained that the pen is dry of ink. She found this concerning, which I found interesting and thought provoking; she said that writing to express and analyse and explore has always been something that she associates with who I am. She asked me to try to write - to find where my blocks are and get my brain into gear. she has a good point, it feels painfully slow to get this out, a far cry from my keyboard being a piano and my fingers whirring out a symphony of wordie words.
I liked h's new project of writing with a purpose. I need a purpose. I have been waiting for the thoughts to come out into the words but perhaps, working the other way will be the answer.
Ideas of purpose????
xxxx
Comments (3)
Life?...
On the plus side, you can afford a therapist.
Ah, purpose. Maybe we should find a way to help each other? My own blocks are much less concrete (get it? concrete blocks? I'm hysterical) but they exist nevertheless. Perhaps we can embark on a project together?
Some initial ideas:
1. Assigned Ideas--each day we leave a word, phrase, or found quote in each other's messages and whatever we find, we write about. Say, 200 words minimum.
2. Post Association--One person posts first (I volunteer if you like) and you post something about the first thing you associate with it--rather like a comment but on your own site. Then it goes back to me. 200 wds.
3. Picture Association--each drops a link to a picture in the other's messages (every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, maybe) and the recipient has to write whatever ideas come from that.
Whaddaya think? It's not personal, which is a nice break (for me, anyway) but rather a nice, short writing exercise to get us back in the swing. Plus, at some point, if other people want to join, they can. It could be fun...
x.g.