Talked About My Accidents On My Trip Today
I came in and she commented the guy was not there I usually talk to in the waiting room. Yes, and I wasn’t here last week. She alluded how he must be missing me but we both looked like, who knows? She asked me what’s going on. I reminded her that I should talk today about what happened on my trip. She nodded like she remembered. She told me and also put it in the form of a question that she didn’t think there would be anything I would tell her that she already doesn’t know or would surprise her. No. I told her that I guess people deal with things to get rid of them in different ways and the way I deal with it is talking. And, she is the only person I can talk to about this with. She just listened – she knows this. She asked me if I want the tappers. Yes. While she was getting them out I told her that I really do like her splinter analogy. Yes, we need to talk about it so it doesn’t get infected. In fact, she thought of one time when she was a kid she did have a splinter and she didn’t say anything for about 3 weeks. They ended up having to “dig” it out. She said sometimes, especially as kids, we tend to put things off that we should have and it would have been easier. I agreed. It was hard to talk. I said how I don’t know why this is so hard this time. Other times I tell her things. She asked me why I thought. I said because of what I did and had to do and almost did. I feel bad about it. Like it’s inappropriate or, I even once said, “nasty”. She said we’ll talk about it. She asked me what I would have liked to feel about it instead of badly. I said that I did the best I could, and what I needed to do in that situation. She wrote these things down. I told her that I was lucky that I had the heat in my favor. I didn’t go to the bathroom nearly as much as I normally do. I could go every couple hours sometimes. But I know I wasn’t drinking enough because I wasn’t going much. I tried. I tried to have a drink with me a lot and keep sipping but I know it wasn’t enough. Sometimes I didn’t because I was scared. Like on the bus home from Chichen Itza because I know I really needed it. And in the town but I was too afraid because there were no public restrooms. We were lucky enough at a hotel and at a store that they let us. I don’t know what people do. She didn’t comment. I asked her if she was ever in a situation that hot. She said El Salvador. But she went in December. She said it was still hot. I told her I still don’t know about this hiding/not hiding. Why I try not to hide this and then it’s OK to hide. I said how she told me once but it was when we were walking outside and I had to go to the bathroom and I had no idea what she said. She nodded like she remembered. She knows that about me. The only thing I remember is the word dignity and I told her I was sorry. She asked me if we should talk about it again. Yes. She said how going to the bathroom is a private thing and it’s OK to keep things like that private. We don’t tell every one every thing about us anyway. I said how I keep the problem hidden as much as I can from people. I guess that’s the difference. I told her there was only one line I had to wait in and I didn’t have to go. I was just going to be going. It was at Chichen Itza. I was lucky. But I still hid from my husband as much as I could. He knew of only two times. The rest I hid. She asked me how he reacted. I hold her like I expected – “Come on, my name!” – meanish. But I said something and he stopped. I also said that when I asked her to estimated how many accidents she thought I’d have and she guessed about one a day, I said she was pretty much right on that. I counted in my head and said it was averaging about one a day – she’s right. She just listened. OK … now to tell her what I did. I said, “See these clothes I have on?” She said, “Yes … cute.” I stood up. I told her I brought a lot like this and showed her how the shorts are light and loose and easily pull away, and they don’t show wetness as easily. She asked me if I purposely brought shorts like this on the trip. Yes. Jean shorts, I did have them on once and had an accident, are heavier, don’t pull away and soak it in more. So after I sat down I explained to her how I pulled my shorts to the side and went to the bathroom. She thought my pants wouldn’t get wet at all. No, it’s not 100% foolproof, they do, but just a little. But I felt bad like it was not an appropriate thing to do. I told her once it was at night and I don’t think anyone saw but I talked about the drip drops on the walkway. I told her I didn’t want to turn around and look. But I might have been mixing this up with another time when I had my jean shorts on and my husband looked when we got to the door and said, “Yes, I see you did.” Another time when I pulled it was on the beach, at night, with no one around and the sand got the drip drops. But there was one time when a lot of people were around. It was at Chichen Itza. It’s a huge open space – she saw pictures last time. There were people in their groups. I was in a group of about 30 people. They give you all the sprite, cola, water bottles and beer on the bus and they told you for the 3 hours out there you have to take a water bottle. I did and drank it. You needed to. So while we were in our tour (2 hours and then 1 hour on our own) I needed to go. There was nothing around where we were. I told her before about the one bathroom set we found but only one was working. And it was really dirty. So I lagged behind the group, and hoped no one saw me while I pulled my shorts to the side and went to the bathroom. I couldn’t do anything else. I had no other choice and I didn’t want my pants wet. Everyone was sweating anyway but no. To put it into perspective for me she asked me how many people working on that area, long ago did something like that. They didn’t have bathrooms. I told her it was a whole community – Mayan people. She said if there was 1000 people and they went to the bathroom five times a day (she said a nice round number) just think how many times that happened. 5,000 times a day! Do you think, if that monument could talk, what would it be saying? Like, ‘so what else is new?’ or I said, “so what?’. Then she asked me if there was one bathroom for that whole place with all those hundreds or thousands of people, how many others might have done what I did today. I didn’t know. I know she’s thinking I'm thinking maybe none. So she asked, this week? OK … I get her point. Once I told her I could argue with her. “Go ahead and argue,” she challenged me. I said that it’s acceptable in that country but not ours. She told me at one point to feel bad. Feel bad about this. “You want me to feel bad?” I questioned. We laughed. In fact we laughed a lot through this discussion because she was trying to make me see it wasn’t such a bad thing. People did this all the time, we’re sure, when they were building it. She asked me where it feels bad. All over. And, the bad sensation of it going down my legs and dripping. I didn’t want to feel bad. She said we had to do this to get through it. I told her I might start crying. She said, that would be good – to get it out. I didn’t. I was too afraid (I didn’t tell her) to get too much into it because I was afraid I would cry and I didn’t want to. So after, she started and stopped the tappers a lot, she asked me how I felt now. More relieved. When I get angry about it I feel it in my upper body like my arms like I want to fight with them. Yeah. And all the emotions that go along with it: anger, sadness, embarrassed, paniky, etc. We talked about that’s all I could do at the time. Boys do it all the time – they are more equipped. She mentioned my youngest how he must do it. Yes. When people are camping or hiking they do. She did remember once in El Salvador someone got off the bus at a stop, squatted and went and got back on the bus like nothing. I said how it’s a different country. But here if there’s not a place I don’t know – maybe we could get arrested. She didn’t know what the laws were and she said I’d have to explain. And as for tourist places here I’d go first at the information center so I don’t have to go where I’m at. I didn’t say but she doesn’t quite understand that it doesn’t always work – depending how long we’re there. And not every place has information centers close. We talked about how I also felt bad about what I was going to do on the bus – I came really close to doing it. “Until he told you where the bathrooms were?” she asked. Yes. The seats were high and my husband is large to block me and I would have peed on the floor. What else could I have done? There was a language barrier and I couldn’t ask him to stop. There was a stop about 45 minutes outside of Chichen Itza we stopped and I went every time. I went every time I could for the most part on the whole trip. And, I didn’t want to go all over the seat. So I didn’t have any other choice. She asked me what my husband would have said. I said he wouldn’t have wanted me to but would know that’s all I could do. So I think she basically tried to make me realize I did what I could do in situations like this. Not to feel badly. That others may have done the same. I did what I could. I think with that exercise she tried to get me to feel the bad feelings, to feel the bad dripping sensation, the panicky feeling, so that I can get out of it. I’m not sure if it worked. I didn’t want to get myself more upset about it. But it did help to just talk, tell her what happened and be done with it. Then I just talked in general about times it happened on the trip. I told her a couple times I didn’t make it all the way and my pants were wet but not that bad but I didn’t change and I just had to deal with it. I know she told me to get out of my wet clothes but I was afraid if I had a big “accident” I wouldn’t have a change of clothes with me. Kind of like on my girl trip and I had a couple accidents that first day, I was afraid I’d run out of clothes. She nodded like she understood. I also didn’t want my husband to know. I did, though, everywhere I went I had my extra clothes with me – I did. Not on the resort but when we went out places. I talked about the airport/airplane. I like to sit by the window – I just do. On the way there I went to the bathroom before we got on. My husband was next to me but since there were 3 to a seat every time I needed to go to the bathroom I had to bother someone. I hate doing that! I went 2 times and before we left. On the way back I had more trouble. We got to the airport early and I had a drink. I went to the bathroom 3 times before we boarded, right when we got on, 2 more times and then again before we got off since we were last. That’s just way too much. It shouldn’t be. She asked me if I associated drinking with having to go to the bathroom. Yes, but you have to drink. She agreed – especially when it’s that hot. Then I said I’m going to talk about night time. I hesitated and just looked at her. She nodded like she knows it’s hard for me but kept looking straight at me. I told her I did 2 times, maybe 3, no I think 2. It was the King bed and my husband and I were in our own little worlds. I took the towels with me and when I did I put the towels down and laid on them. I told her how rough they were and how uncomfortable they were to lay on and they were wet underneath. She nodded like she understood. Then I didn’t do what she said. She said to strip the bed and put everything on the bathroom floor. I didn’t because I didn’t want my husband to know. So I just pulled everything back over it. She asked me if the maid changed them. I told her I guess so but I just hoped for the best and the room was so damp anyway. This room you couldn’t regulate the temperature, I even called about it. It was either way too cold or you had to turn off the air and then it got really damp – everything. I told her I don’t know why I went so many times because I didn’t even sleep that well. I went on to say that maybe when I did I sleep deeper and then just didn’t feel it. She said I was probably more anxious about it anyway. Yes. I told her I can go nights, many nights, without having an accident. Once in a while I get into that every night thing but not a lot. She nodded again understanding. I told her about packing. I did what she said. I packed the fun stuff first and my extra clothes. But when it came to Big Bertha and little Bertha … She asked me if I didn’t bring them at all. I told her at the very last minute I put them in – the very last. I thought I better and I didn’t want to be caught without. But I didn’t use them at all. First of all it was too hot. I also didn’t want my husband to know. And I did do a little of that, “Oh it’s really hot, I won’t have to go to the bathroom that much, I’ll be OK.” That too over confidence thing I do sometimes. So that was basically it. Yeah – we got the splinter out. At one point I had to go to the bathroom and told her but we just kept on talking. About 4 minutes later I said, “I really need to go,” and just went. I didn’t wait very long and she didn’t say a word. When I came back I asked her if my daughter noticed my little box. No. But we didn’t do anything with the little cards in my worry box today. I guess we just forgot or ran out of time. I don’t think she’ll make me go over it again next time. I think she knows I’m done for a while. I need a break from this. I told her last time I wanted to maybe bring my husband in but wanted to know how it would work. She didn’t want to open up a new file for him so we would use one of my sessions. On the Monday the 24th she has a meeting and needed to reschedule with me so we decided to do 5 PM on Tuesday the 25th with him instead. I told her I know it’s hard to get those 5 PM appointment times. She said yes, and even harder when the kids go back to school. She also had this Tuesday open but that’s too soon. I think we need to talk more about what I’m going to say and what I want from it and not just what he hasn’t heard before. She can intermediate she said. I told her if I was independently wealthy I don’t know if I’d stay. But we have this bond, and we’ve been together so long, and the kids. I love him very, very much but I just don’t like him. And I can’t stand it any longer. And I don’t know what he will say because I’m not perfect either. I said how my cousin called yesterday because he put “our” family name in the computer and found my brother’s death certificate. He was hesitant at first but I knew what he was going to say. Since I have no brothers and sisters it felt so good for him to say “our” family name and especially since we had no contact with each other for so many years because of my Mom’s fighting. And, my other cousin … I just don’t know. Maybe she’s not back from her trip. I tried calling and I get a weird message. And she didn’t see my son and she hasn’t called me. I’m a little nervous about talking to her but I’ll try again soon. I’ve been helping my kids prepare to move. I went last Saturday and I’ll go again this Saturday. She said I’m the perfect person because of my organizing skills. She told me to enjoy my weekend earlier when we were done talking about all that hard stuff. I told her we need to work on where to go from here – goals. Yes. And she was thinking before how we should start on that history packet she’s been keeping of mine. It’s a good place to start and go from there and she feels uncomfortable keeping it. I told her it’s been about a year since we read it. Maybe we were on page 6. I guessed we should start over again reading it. She thought so, too. I didn’t say but it takes so long and that’s why we didn’t finish it. I told her that now we don’t need to focus on my problem so much. I know I’ll have to talk about things, things will happen, but not so much. She thanked me for sharing with her what I did today. She knows how hard it was for me. When I went to my massage therapist after she told me at the end of the month she’s going on a road trip. She thought about me because I don’t mind driving and she hates long road trips. She’s going with her husband. Little does she know what I go through on road trips! She doesn’t need to know as far as I’m concerned but my therapist thinks differently about this. But anyway, she will be gone at the same time my therapist will be on her cruise. My therapist knows that week will be hard for me and she told me I can see the massage therapist more. She doesn’t know it’s the same week – she just booked it yesterday! And, that’s the week I have to share one day with my husband. Maybe she can help me think of something to stay busy with or something. I hope so. I hate being like this. I wish I wasn’t – take it away! I need more people in my life I can share things with and I just don’t have that right now. I’ve lost so many.