[Issue #12] Week 1 Insights
A brief piece on my experience this week in intensive PTSD treatment
This and the following 3 posts will be shorter, less scientific, and more to-the-point. I hope you enjoy them as much as my other posts! Thanks for reading! Your support is very appreciated.
“If being better is the surest way of feeling better, it must be better than feeling better.”
― Neel Burton, Stoic Stories: A Heroic Account of Stoicism
This week began with the universe testing my thin patience. It began at the airport, which is smaller than most international airports. I was able to navigate around (through?) the bubbling of panic attacks from varying angles at different intensities.
I didn’t yell at anyone.
I didn’t call myself any terrible names (my self-talk has needed quite a bit of purposeful attention this past year).
I didn’t call a friend to help soothe me. I tried my best to rely on my own skills and self-soothing tactics. I put in my earbuds and some music and didn’t take them out until I got to the curbside waiting for the shuttle upon arriving.
The first day, Monday, was filled with my re-learning of some foundational concepts and skills through cognitive processing therapy (CPT - learn more here from the American Psychological Association), cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT), and a couple of group sessions. All of this (for this first week) is done virutally, over Zoom. We are heading to get covid tests shortly and after the tests (hopefully) come back negative, we can do group sessions in person. My individual sessions will still be via Zoom. I’ve managed to get used to the virtual sessions but it’s taxing sitting at a screen and doing intensive therapy that way all day. My eyes feel like they’ve grown two sizes while my attention span feels just as short as it did before I got here. I’m hopeful I’ll be able to stretch my attention span while I’m here. A couple people tend to be late which is irksome to me, but the irony is not lost on me.
I want nothing more than to practice such patience and other skills while waiting for people so the rest of us can get started. That’s sarcasm (which is actually a terrible way to communicate because it tends to come off as dismissive, demeaning, or worst of all, contemptuous - find out more about contempt and sarcasm here, from the Gottman Institute). The idea is to self-quarentine the first week so that we can have group sessions in person the last 2 weeks.
The rest of the week has been going well. We had the first art therapy session yesterday and we made vision boards. The idea was to reflect on our past, present, and future, and create a vision board from that lens. We were given a random bag of cut out magzine clippings, glue sticks, colored pencils, markers, and paper.
At first, I felt irritated at the lack of options from the magazine clippings. After a while, I was able to step back and I came up with something I’m actually pretty pleased with.
The more I look at the piece, the more I glean from it.
Most therapy sessions are 60 minutes but the CPT sesssions range from 60-90 minutes, which is used to either work through severe trauma using different worksheets and mindfullness exercises as well as “homework”.
The homework so far has been an even mixture of horrible (more horrible than your least favorite subject’s homework in high school or college) and insightful.
I’ve had several epiphanies already.
My sleep here is worse than it is back home and the memory foam matress feels like a sauna by the morning. I’m covered in sweat.
Why don’t you turn down the AC you ask? Oh, I did.
It’s comfortable when I go to sleep but 6 hours later, it’s a bath. And it’s gross. I guess if the mattress is the worst part of my experience, It’s going pretty well.
That’s all for this week - I appreciate your patience as I go through this treatment to be able to be more engaged in my life and hopefully derive joy from it without the guilt of living. That’s something I’m unpacking here, too.
I feel hopeful and a tinge of excitement for the changes. But there’s fear and worry, too.
I hope you dear and loyal readers had a lovely week - shoot me an email and let me know how your days have been. Or send comments and thoughts, I always look forward to hearing from you!
Stay kind to yourself and remember to breathe (advice for you and me).
“Being mentally ill is not an excuse to act like a jackass, okay? I’m quoting my therapist, my mom, and my mailman. Sorry, Carl.”
-Pete Davidson, from his opening monologue on Saturday Night Live, October 7th, 2018 (shortly after he was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder and suffering from suicide ideation and urges)
Thank you for sharing this with all of us. I appreciated reading about your experience from the sweaty mattress (my version of sleeping hell) to the art you made, as it gives such a real world glimpse into what healing can look like.
Thank you so much for taking us on your journey of wellness. Your articles always bring me such stark moments of utter clarity that resonate and remain with me. Keep writing and keep reaching.