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... and then my GP said.... (prolly lonnnng)

Posted by finelinebob on September 8, 2006, at 0:45:18

[For those just tuning in, this drama begins with http://wtc.thefineline.org/ and recently refreshed at http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/2000/20050828/msgs/677313.html but I'm changing channels ... and pardon me for BabbleBloging here, but I'm about to burst]

Well, first I saw my PDoc and said, "Doc, it's getting so close to 9/11 that I'm almost having panic attacks. Do I need some Ativan or something like that?" He said no and, of all ironies, doubled my dose of clonazepam. Better to prevent them in the first place then stop them once they've started.

Then I see my GP ... checking for liver damage since I'm on Vytorin as well as all my psych meds and I tell him about my change in dosage on the C. And since he's been on this journey with me (besides being a New Yorker and a doc -- can't imagine what he was feeling that day -- he's an acupuncturist (yes, and an internal med specialist) and used acupuncture to treat me for my PTSD back after it happened), he's got his opinion. Well, he's an MD, so he has an opinion on everything -- but he's an excellent MD and a kind, caring soul, so I listen to him.

So, my GP says to forget the memorials -- go volunteer someplace. Do something good for someone who needs help. Turn the negative into a positive.

Well, I said I listen to him. I didn't say I always take his advice (if I did, I wouldn't need Vytorin in the first place).

And I didn't bother to tell him about the hypnotherapist I was seeing for a few sessions; didn't need to hear that lecture from the Internist/Acupuncturist about hypnosis, even if done by a MSW/HT who works up at Columbia Presbyterian Hospital doing HT with surgical patients.

Then, this (Thursday 7 Sept ... T-3 days or so and counting) morning, I see my T and share with her what my GP said. She said that was a nice idea. Then I told her why I wasn't going to do it. She said that THAT was the right idea.

And I was in such a rush to get out the door because the extra C has zombyfied me somewhat and I overslept and was going to miss my session with my T, I forgot all my meds. No C with me if I needed to chill. Oh well.

This evening, the Manhattan Meeting (one of the Quaker meetings in NYC) held a memorial meeting down in the Battery, in a garden area called the Labyrinth. There were maybe 12 of us. A silent meeting with all the sounds of the Lower Manhattan (c)rush hour all around ... and I happened to pick a seat looking up West Street towards the Hole in the Sky.

One man who has spent his entire professional life in Lower Manhattan and loves it more than anywhere else also spoke about the Hole in the Sky. A woman talked about the fear she had then and still has; she's knows she can't turn her back and run away from it. She knows this because as a child in Berlin, she'd seen horrors from weeks of Allied bombing raids that--no, no comparisons ... pain is pain. And here she was, 61 years and 5 years later, not quite knowing how to deal with the fear. I wish I could have stood and said what was in my heart, having stared down the Hole for the last 45min or so and survived. But I couldn't find the strength.

After the rising of the meeting, we talked casually about who we were (for strangers like me to that meeting), why we were there, what we had done that day. I could talk somewhat then with these Friends, but it's hard to describe how different it is to speak under the "covering" of a meeting than otherwise. I couldn't find the strength.

So. I've got this PTSD Beast inside me--an Intruder, not the one I was born with and have reached a mutual understanding with, if not something more--and I've made my decision to kick its @$$ and get it the h3ll out of my life ... the right decision, or so says my T. And what ripped that Hole in the Sky ripped a Hole in my Soul that let the Intruder in.

I think I have the Intruder by the scruff of its neck, even tho it can still claw pretty badly. And that woman was right -- your can't turn your back on the source of your pain. You can't run away from it. You can't go around it, under it or over it. Standing still does no good.

The only way I can heal that Hole is to walk through it. The only way out is through.

And, of course, I've got to drag that mangy, worthless, vicious Intruder with me and kick it so hard it won't know what time zone it's in when it finally hits the ground.

The main problem is, I need to find the path to the Hole. I *think* it's in the direction of "love" and "forgiveness", but I'm not quite sure if I know where to find them. But there's a lot going on in NYC between now and Monday, so maybe I can pick up the trail.


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Psycho-Babble Psychology | Framed

poster:finelinebob thread:684143
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/psycho/20060826/msgs/684143.html