I'm at a loss today. I feel strangely unaware of the purpose of my movements, not perceiving any priorities, unclear about my connection to my close people (except that i love them) but wondering if they "really" want to put up with me. I suppose depression would fit except that i won't stay in bed and mope - i will do what's required and expected of me but i'll just be doing the motions.
It is invariably cluttered wherever i go and nothing i can do about it. Some of the clutter is inevitable (because my daughter and her partner have 2 children under five!) and my partner is a univ. prof. and has more books and paper that i have brain cells. I want to live in a near-empty room; wash away everything and start clean - no knick-knacks, less books, remove pictures and tea cups and less furniture but more plants. I don't even like my aquarium anymore - be gone.
I'd like to go to counseling but, personally, find it useless and for me, even dangerous. Expression of my trauma only brings on more symptoms and i find this reliance of EDMR for trauma patients ridiculous - a fad - with every practioner doing "it" differently. I have discovered that there are as many methods for social workers as there are individuals and the approaches confuse me. There's no way of knowing if they "work", will do damage or be a waste of time. I suppose, after everything i've gone through, i don't really trust mental health practitioners. Please know i am cynical and this does not apply to everyone!!!!
It's sad because i know mental health issues are as relevant as physical ones but the brain, the mind, the moods , the feelings, etc. remain mysterious elements. Psychiatrists are phamaceudical dispensers in Canada and what they prescribe are either addictive, possibly the right one, the right mix or the wrong one. The listen for 1/2 hr. to symptoms and prescribe. They call you back in, listen 15 min. to symptoms and change the med. They call you back in, etc. etc. blah, blah blah. As the first social worker i met at the hospital said - it's a crap shoot.
Maybe i do want to crawl back to bed and go under the covers, safe from clutter, meds and moods. AArgh.
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