Square one, but with a revelation

We're back to square one...."if you don't give yourself credit for the things you accomplish, you'll never get anywhere". Basically she was saying that I'll keep swimming in my own personal sewer of negativity and that therapy won't be of any help if I can't acknowledge any of the positive things I do.

Today's session was really hard, not just because of the regret and embarrassment drilled into me by the voices in my head over sending her that email, but also because when I arrived, she was dealing with a crisis. Crisis meant an ambulance and fire truck showed up, which immediately triggered panic that I was the crisis and they were there to haul me off to the hospital. I figured maybe she did a Google search of the email I sent, found my blog and knows about the planning. I almost took off running out the door as soon as the ambulance pulled up. Unfortunately I would have had to run and hide somewhere outdoors because their vehicles were blocking my car. Instead I gripped the arms of the chair intent on being as cemented to it as possible so they could not rip me away from it.

Initially our session started off with me in tears trying to explain the email. Then the other two selves staged a coup and triangulated my selves within me. The irrationally logical one taking hold of the right side of my brain. The suicidal lunatic taking hold of the left. Both then joining together and forcing the me self deep down into my chest to the point there was so much pressure I felt like my rib cage would explode outward at any minute.

I was so separated within myself that at one point tears were only flowing out of my right eye. The whole left side of my face was completely void of emotion. Even seeing that, I don't think she comprehends the "selves" I wrote about. To me they are very real, but I haven't a clue how to explain what goes on in terms that anyone else would understand.

A revelation did take place for me on the way to her office though, one that I told her about. The music. The music that plays so loudly in my head. It serves a purpose and it isn't to torment me as I've always believed. It's there to tame the beastly other two selves. Sometimes it calms them to the point where I'm no longer aware they are there. We become one cohesive unit focused solely on the music. Other times it's there merely to drown out their voices. I still haven't a clue where it comes from, where that jukebox is plugged in at, but it's there to help me.

For the next week I'm going to keep track of the positive things I do, which to her seems to be pretty much anything I do outside of lying in bed wishing I were dead. With that list, I will try to track and transcribe the battle that rages on inside my head not only as I try to force myself to take care of my responsibilities, but also what happens when I try to give myself praise for actually doing them.