Classes are over for the semester. Finally. I had my last final exam yesterday afternoon and by 2pm, I knew all of my grades. I got all A’s, which means I keep my 4.0! Hurray! And I scored four perfect 100’s on my practical exams this session, which is really quite extraordinary just in general, but even more so when I look back on what I’ve been tackling these last few weeks. It is moments like this when the ability to compartmentalize and let “someone else” take over has it’s very obvious benefits. I am so incredibly relieved to be done with coursework for a month because my brain is absolutely at capacity right now.
Except, it’s been just over 24 hours since classes ended and I already feel like I’m going insane. I don’t really have plans for this month off except sporadic social engagements, therapy three times a week, and going to the gym every single damn day. I went to the gym for two hours this morning because I literally didn’t know what else to do with myself.
I feel like I have been sprinting for seven months straight, working tirelessly to get through classes while battling flashbacks/memories and eating disorders and internal hostility and the natural challenges of navigating therapy. It has very much been a practice in “one day at a time”.
And now it’s over. I made it. It feels like I went from a full-on sprint to a full-on stop. But with all of that momentum, it’s hard to brake, so I feel like I am just freefalling through the air, wondering where I’m going to make my crash landing.
Last year at this time I went to my hometown to visit my “Mom” and sister/nieces. I was there for about a week or so and within mere days upon returning, woke up in the locked psychiatric ward of a hospital. Not good. I think a lot of that had to do with being back there and dealing with the massive triggers around that place, so Wife and I decided not to make the trip this summer, partly for that exact reason. But it’s also because when we don’t have a routinized, tightly-scheduled life, the System tends to unravel rapidly.
It’s hard enough to keep myself entertained, let alone all Parts. To be fair, I don’t think everyone requires constant amusement, but many do. And when there aren’t things to fill the day and keep our brain occupied with non-torture related items, we tend to fall into a pit of darkness.
Also, when there’s less to keep in balance, the “apparently normal parts” have less to do. This ultimately frees up more energy for the “emotional parts” to be out and to assert their needs, much of which relate to therapy and recovery. However, whenever there is an uptick in the amount of sharing in therapy, there is also an uptick in the amount of internal hostility.
And another thing…
When I got to session on Tuesday, the therapist opened by saying we needed to talk about “logistics”. Long story short, my insurance is changing. I’ve been paying her out-of-pocket since December, but the plan was to begin out-of-netowrk reimbursement once this new plan kicked in (August 1st). However, it turns out the ONE plan she is in-network in is my new plan. But she is trying to get OUT of that network because they restrict session length and frequency, which she doesn’t like (probably because she does a lot of work with trauma survivors, who benefit from more time).
I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I don’t like the idea of neither using her in OR out of network. That means all of this money I’m throwing at treatment won’t be going towards any deductibles or out-of-pocket maximums, it will just be going into her bank account. Which, to be fair, she is absolutely worth her fee…I just was hoping it would eventually work out to be less pricey for me because Wife and I really cannot afford to keep paying at this rate indefinitely.
But the mere mention of potential insurance problems sent me into full-on panic mode.
I normally sit in a chair across from her during sessions and I always take off my shoes and curl up the moment I sit down. There is an ottoman pushed against the wall to my left. As soon as she started talking about insurance issues, I stood up and climbed onto the ottoman. I grabbed some pillows and curled into child’s pose, barefoot and all, resting the side of my face on the pillow. I just said, “Do you remember the reason Zooey gave for terminating my therapy?”
“Yes. Because of insurance issues. But that is not going to happen here…”
Then she said a bunch of other stuff I don’t remember. I felt like I was going to die. It was all too much. Eventually she switched topics and I was able to pull myself out of panic mode, but I’m still shaken up. I hate the idea of losing ANY of my treatment due to financial/insurance problems. It’s taken us eight long, hard months to work up to a frequency that feels right for us and the idea of shaking that up for any reason is really upsetting.
Which means I need to talk to her about this tomorrow and I don’t want to. It terrifies me. And there’s so much else I need to talk about, such as how the fuck I’m supposed to get through the next 32 days without completely losing my mind.
Because I already feel like shit and it’s only day #1.