Well, yesterday was my last session with my therapist before she went on he two week vacation. I'm kind of freaking out here. I don't know I think I am just used to the idea of having her there. Just in case.

The first thing I said was, ok ask me. "What are your support systems while I am gone?" I mean she asks it every time so I am kind of used to it. She said ok, I'll bite. And I said well I was thinking about it on my way here because I knew you would ask and I got nothing. But then right as I pulled my car into the parking place I said "crime victims counsel." They have some one you can call all the time.

My dad just had surgery and I don't want too get him involved in anything. My mom gets mad when I do. My aunt just found out her daughter is pregnant, my aunt is my best friend. So I don't want to bother her. I said I had this but she always likes people I can go to or call in real life.

So that was the beginning. Then I complained that I felt like I was going to blow up like before. That things were going to get really bad and I am not going to be able to handle it (like if you thought last month was bad, that was nothing compared to what I went through before) And I had this let the sleeping dog lie feeling before that too, this I'm fine thing whenever she asked and oh, one of you knows of peechy keen. And then BOOM messy Kristen.

She asked if I thought that I just had recovered a little and I said no way. I still feel something. I pointed at my chest and said it is like there is a combination safe there and I don't know the combination and it just hurts having it sit there and every once in while something seeps out, Like I saw the type of car that I was raped in. It drove past me as I was waiting to turn out of me street. Same color, everything. I just watched it go down the street. Just sat there have tiny little flashbacks that froze me up enough I couldn't move until I couldn't see it anymore. It is still there. It's all still there. I just need that combination and get the heaviness out, and move on.

And I think these drugs the psychiatrist is giving me are just making it more difficult to access that safe. Like they know the combination and they are not going to tell me. Probably laughing about it too.

So, then I start crying at the end because she is leaving and I don't want her to. And I am trying to explain that I am not reacting like this because I don't think she deserves a vacation. Everyone does. I am just going to miss coming in. Of course I feel like reverted to a child when I said something like please don't be angry, it's just how I am. (I always start feeling abandoned when something like this happens even when I know she is coming back. I felt this about my gyn when he sent me to that other doctor. It has a long history which I won't explain now.) SO I am supposed to do therapeutic stuff. Things I have felt helpful in the past, like writing, and collages, stuff like that during the time I would have been with her and also do something nice, like sit outside.

So I bought three books and three cds and figure now I have some good stuff to do.

Then I come home to an urgent message from my doctor's office saying that there is something wrong with the blood work they just had me do. It said it would be impossible for me to be alive and walking around. One test said I was dead. So they sent me to get them drawn STAT at the hospital. I mean I have been tired and dizzy, but I am sure I am not dead.

They called back this morning and said they came back fine. YEAH, something went right this week.

I did something made my fibromyalgia act up, so my entire body hurts. I am not getting my hair colored punkish today, probably next week. I am thinking that could be next week's therapeutic thing.