Thursday, December 8, 2011


 This morning my alarm went off playing The Doors, Strange People. My head filled with dread. Laying with my head under the covers I grabbed my iphone gently reminding me, "When you're strange... faces come out of the rain, when you're strange... no one remembers your name, when you're strange...." and hit snooze.

The idea of going outside on this dark and dreary day launched me into panic. Laying in bed, breathing deeply and steadily I knew it was "one of those days". Like all my mornings lately, I was at war with myself.

I got up and looked in the mirror. My face strained trying not to look angry and stressed. The dark circles housed under my eyes have been expanding. I decided looking like a wrinkled laundry hamper is acceptable and started to gather my things to leave.

Just go....

It was raining and windy so I used pedways & tunnels that twist through downtown. I got in an elevator telling it to go all the way down and instead it went all the way up. As the elevator filled with suits, looking at the wrinkled mental me, I started to sweat and my heart started thumping through my shirt. I was sure they could hear my heart pounding. I wiped sweat from my neck and brow. My head was swimming. I deliberately tried calming myself with all our favorite mindfulness techniques but it was of no use. Full blown panic. Tears burning in my eyes I thought I was going to pass out and puke on their lovely 400$ shoes.

I don't remember anything else until I am in my therapists office crying about something completely unrelated. I told her I was exhausted. I hated getting out of bed in the mornings. I didn't know what I was doing or where I was going. I felt out of control and lost. I am so tired of being stuck with me.

As the kindest mental health provider I've met yet- she did manage to somehow let me leave with the feeling everything will be okay, eventually. I don't have to know what I'm doing or where I'm going. Once we get me "stable" we can worry about goal setting and re-working some of the trauma I've not been able to get over on my own (from my younger years). I hate that I need her to reassure this but she did and did so very well. So much so I almost believe it.

All of that horror to be told it's not such a horror at all. *shrug* Best 90 bucks I've spent in a while.

How has someone helped you recently?


  1. On Tuesday I spent the entire day in bed....
    It was the first time I've done that in quite some time, but I couldn't think of anywhere else I had to be, so I curled up with my phone and waited all day as no one called or texted; my absence from society seemed truly inconsequential.
    Then, I had therapy on Wednesday. I told him about it, about how my fundamental problem is that I literally don't care about anything.... After some repartee (I love that I can repartee with my therapist) we got around to examining my truly narcissistic personality qualities.............

    He asked if I'd ever been narcissistically injured before.

    I knew exactly what he was talking about--instances of injury came to mind with the vivid emotional pang that only the deepest hidden memories can hold--but I chose to play dumb instead.

    He saw right through that; told me I should become an actor.

    That was enough to narcissistically injure me again, but from that mild new wound I was able to gain a new understanding of how my mind plays tricks on me. And now I've been given a new opportunity to go forward--albeit not an easy route--but a new day and a new insight into how I hide the sometimes painful truth from myself.
    The hiding of which ultimately only leads to more self-induced pain.

    So now I'm living my first day attempting to keep my blinders off. And even though I've yet to leave my apartment (it's a high of 30 F today), I think there's some hope in this strange new future.

    Matt Justus

  2. Thank you so much for sharing that- very inspiring :)
    I've never really considered the notion of narcissistic injury. Sounds like you have a great therapist. You've both given me something to think about.
    Also repartee may be my new favorite word, so extra thanks for that!

    - Leslie