(Continued from 2013, The Year I Lost Everything, Part 1)
TWO psychiatrists down; in search for the next. I was living on borrowed money (thankfully, not on borrowed time), but this borrowed money was expensive. This was my MOTHER'S money. My mother had earned this money! (To me, this was dirty money. We know how my mother earned it.) Additionally, I had to endure accusations, drunk phone calls, and constant berating.
We were repulsed each time we had to use this 'borrowed money.' If I could, in any way possible, have continued employment, we would have NOT have subjected ourself to the use of these funds. I was no longer able to work and the Social Security Administration required an MD. Therefore, an MD we must have. Mother paid for the psychiatrists. :-|
Phone call, after phone call, after phone call... no one wanted to take our case. A few seemed interested, but when they found I was in the process of filing for Social Security, the door slammed. Yeah, tell me THEY were truly interested in my well-being!
NEXT!
Oh, but as luck were to have it, my counselor quit just over a month before my hearing! No warning. She simply told me as I was leaving her office the next session would be our last. No one was replacing her right away. (This is a woman's shelter/counseling service for those who have been abused sexually or domestically, and at the time, had only one counselor for adults – several for children.) I felt out in the cold; devastated; shocked.
Lovely.
Thankfully the next week or so, I found Dr. J. Dr. J seemed truly interested in my case, even knowing the Social Security case was at hand (one month away, by this time). She was even willing to complete whatever forms were needed (“For what good they will do,” she said). She explained that because she will have seen me but a month before the hearing, the information she provides may or may not sway my case. I didn't care. We were just glad someone would see us.
DID and PTSD (Dissociative Identity Disorder, and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) were her diagnoses, which were reached after four sessions. (“Multiple personalities” is no longer considered a valid diagnosis, although my daughter would disagree.) These were the diagnoses on the paperwork sent to the Social Security Administration (SSA).
I find it a shame the psychiatric community would turn away those in need for fear of a Social Security hearing. Are they not confident in their own diagnoses that they are afraid of the government? Are they incompetent or hiding something? I wonder.
Additionally, I also find it a shame the Social Security Administration would not take the word of a Counselor I had seen for this entire time, who had drawn the SAME conclusions and worked with me on the same diagnoses as Drs. B. and J.
This counselor, whom I shall call “Alex,” (short for Alexandra) had taken me from “I'm here because my lawyer wants me to seek counseling, and I cannot afford a phychiatrist,” to “OH, MY FUCKING GOD! MY ENTIRE LIFE HAS BEEN A LIE – TO OURSELF!”
Alex had also begun to tell when I was in the 'driver's seat' or my hostess was in control, but this was toward the last month or two of sessions with her. So much for progression, we felt. So much for continuity. We felt as if we were hanging off a cliff and the rope was slowly unraveling.
Now what ? ! ?
Our experiences with the above psychiatric persons actually happened in 2012. However, this is all leading up to the “OH, MY FUCKING GOD!” part and beyond.
Parts of the realizations, epiphanies if you will, which have happened in therapy may be written by me, but much of it will be written from the view of my hostess. Yes, we know of one other. We have just not yet found a way to become one < if ever > and sometimes still fight over the reins. < I'm NOT going to hand them over until I'M ready! > Yet, we feel whispers of another, and the ... the omnipresent pressure of ...“HIM/IT.”
You, the reader may or may not notice who writes what. Our present counselor s”Anna” said the change is subtle, but she has also began to detect when we switch places.
We will attempt to be as chronologically as possible when writing about how all has evolved, though what may seem to be a sidetrack, and actual sidetracks and flashbacks, will occur. Many of these 'sidetracks' will likely tie into a single epiphany. Those of you who have been through therapy likely understand this. However, this writing journey is not about my therapy.
This writing journey is about the sidetracks, the flashbacks, the epiphanies, the stories themselves.
PLEASE NOTE: I will always put the words “Sophia's Saga” in the title so you can find me or look for previous posts, if you so choose. Feel free to follow and upvote me :-)
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