So I saw my therapist today (okay technically yesterday morning) and talked about most of my thoughts – well my feelings really. She kept interrupting me to try to get me to look at things objectively and logically. At one point she flat out asked me “Where’s Sheldon?” I caught the reference. Funny how years ago it would have been “Where’s Spock?” I just didn’t get her reference when she said, “I see Lucy.” I asked her about that one. She meant the old TV show I Love Lucy. It was just before my time so I know of the show but I never watched it.
I just looked at her and flat out told her that I am aware that I am emotionally driven. She said she is aware of that, but it’s beyond that. I’m often logically disconnected as well. Duh, I know this too. Why else do you think I’m in therapy? That’s so damn aggravating. My emotions hit like a fucking tsunami and my logical processes shut down. Why would anyone enjoy this? It seems like the only way I can think straight is when I take the time to write down my thoughts and that’s if I’m lucky.
She noted that I have a lot of grudges. You think? I would love very much to just process them, burn them up, walk the fuck away, and never look back again. Instead this shit just keeps coming back up. No idea why. It’s not like I ask it to or want it to. It’s just something that continues to happen and demands to be dealt with but everyone tells me to fucking drop it and just let it go. But how to you let go of something that as far as you know you aren’t intentionally holding on to? But anyway, she didn’t want to talk about my grudges today. Which is fine. I didn’t really want to talk about them either. They came up as a tangent. Evasive emotional maneuver really, but my therapist hasn’t called me out on it yet. I only realized it today that I’m diverting to anger.
Anger is easier. Anger is an emotional call to action. Anger pulls and generates energy when there is otherwise none. And my resources have been spread ridiculously thin. Too many campaigns to run. Too many causes to champion. My reserves are drained. Much easier to be angry than to admit defeat, feel doubt, submit to worry, or be afraid. Anger has always been a tool. A dangerous, cold, weaponzied tool. Sad that I can get more done with it than I can with any other feeling. Yes, I can flare hot and bright but it doesn’t take long for me to focus it, direct it, harness it, and give it purpose. Writing this down in this logical sort of way reminds me of the book Ender’s Game in a very sad way.
What surprised me though is how one simple question from her could so completely shut it all down. “What are the facts?” And just like that not only the flames that were trying to rise within me, but the embers would cool. Panic and fear would seep in every time. Didn’t matter what I was talking about at that moment. It was frustrating. I wanted to rally myself into action and here she was shutting it down. Not sure why. Maybe I spoke with mixed feeling? I know I was stuck with her sudden question out of the blue with:
“Who is telling you to stay married?”
I didn’t think I said up to that point that anyone had suggested it but I did tell her at that point my dad has said more than once that I should consider staying married for the medical coverage at least while my husband is in the military. The problem with that is the state income based medical coverage offers more services for our disorders and disabilities than the military insurance does and with far less hoops to jump through once the stupid paperwork and red tape is dealt with. Not to mention considering how my husband has been playing games with the money, once divorced the boys and I would get our SSI benefits back. So she struck me again with another question:
“Why are you so afraid?”
I’m afraid of losing Little Bear even though I have been the one that has been taking care of him all by myself for the past 3 years or so ever since he joined the military. I have never been hospitalized. I have never attempted suicide. I don’t have a drug or alcohol addiction history. I don’t have a criminal record. I have always been compliant with my medical care plan since I was diagnosed with Bipolar. I was the one that sought out treatment for Little Bear and got him diagnosed and have struggled to keep him safe, alive, and stable. It is my husband that has a criminal record all the way back to juvy, has threatened suicide more than once, claims to have attempted suicide, claims that all mental health care is bullshit, claims that he is better off without their care, and has suggested that Little Bear might be better off without this care.
My therapist says that it is time for me to find and pay for an attorney to get legal counsel. I need to find out what the precedence is for this and what I can do to protect what is in the best interest of Little Bear. She agrees with me that if my husband is saying and doing all this then it is very likely that he will not ensure that Little Bear is compliant with his treatment plan. Little Bear has already tried to take his own life more than once. He is only 6 years old. No one should ever be in that dark place. No one. But the thought of someone that young… it’s just too much. And this is my baby we’re talking about here. I’m not saying he can’t have visitation. I’m just asking for full physical custody to keep all three boys together and to ensure that Little Bear remains as stable as possible. I would love to have full medical custody as well, but I will settle for just full physical custody because I know with the doctors on my side I can win a debate when they pop up.
So I might not have a raging fire of hot anger. I might not have a cold flame of anger to wield either. I just pray that I can get myself over to a lawyer and get this shit done. While my father agrees with me about the divorce, he still seems to think that I won’t be able to get Little Bear the income based medical coverage in my name even if he is living with me as long as his father is in the military. Far as I know I can, even if it’s through the Katie Beckett waiver. It would just count as secondary insurance.
I do know these chilling chains of fear are killing me. I need to break free from their inaction and get shit done. I’m tired of feeling like I’m powerless. I’m not trapped. I can’t be. I have more to gain by breaking free than I do by staying in this mess.
So ladies and gentlemen these are the facts:
- I need a divorce
- Speak to a lawyer
- Protect Little Bear’s best interests
- I’m renting from a slum lord that won’t fix shit in this apartment
- I need to find a new place for us to live
- Find out how I can protect myself from the damages caused by the leaking roof and bad plumbing they won’t fix – I don’t want pay for that when I move out
- Little Bear needs an appointment for his neuropsych
- I haven’t heard from the first referral in two weeks
- Call them, set it up
- Little Bear needs an IEP at a public school
- Once the neuropsych is done, send a letter requesting a meeting
- Visit DHHS for Katie Beckett paperwork to get a case manager
- Homeschool portfolio needs to be put together and mailed in for review
- Make an appointment for next year’s homeschool curriculum planning
- Buy the books and supplies
- Set up the schedule and goals for the year
So go me, chains and all, as I strive to get this shit taken care of in no particular order. Well… first and foremost the divorce and the damn portfolio need to be addressed. The portfolio has a deadline and the clock is ticking. Perhaps I need to prioritize this list if I hope for any of it to be done. I know my therapist wants a progress report in two weeks. I hope to have something positive to tell her by then.