Sh*t or Get off the Pot

This morning I started my day by making the trek to see the "new" surgeon.  He is conservative that is for sure.  I wonder have asked myself over and over in the last few weeks...today..."Did you make the right choice by choosing this guy over his best friend and fellow surgeon.  I will probably never know the answer to this question.  Since this is a work related injury and I'm on my 2nd opinion since the Jackhole, I saw a month ago...I cant change doctors.  Which, is fine with me.  He's not ready to jump into doing surgery until he is confident he knows 100% what is going on and what the source of my pain is.  However, I'm struggling w/being patient.  Patience and I don't always get along.  And this is one of those times. 

I left the clinic today thinking that old saying my mom used to say to all.the.freeking.time.  "Just shit or get off the pot".  And that is where I'm at.

Until then...I remain w/the same restrictions.  I return in 3 weeks.  In hopes for more answers.  He gave me an answer today as to what the problem is right now...  adhesiv.e capulitis....AKA:  froze.n s.houlder.  I've got a long road to recovery, I think.  Which is depressing.

I returned to work for a few hours and then made the trek back to the same side of town I was on earlier in the day to see H*.  I have seen her weekly for the last 3 weeks.  Last week and today some pretty heavy stuff came up.  As in staying present was very difficult.  I struggled getting dressed. I struggled sitting in her office afterwards talking for a few moments.  The fight or flight internal mode was in high gear.  As she shared w/me her experience and what she felt happened and the shifts she felt, I thought I didn't think about it on the same level.  She felt like there was a shift.  Shift in energy, shift in my own personal trauma work, shift in general.  An area that she has never felt to be an issue before screamed very loud and clear.  It was a bit of a different shift for me.  I felt the shift and definately agree that it was different than usual.  I got up feeling stuck.  Stuck and unbalanced so to speak.  The intense pain and areas that were screaming to me while I was there....left shortly after I left her home/office. 

I had a psychiatrist appt w/K*.  I sat outside her office trying to gather my thoughts.  After getting to a place where I was feeling pretty good I went in to my appt.  As usual, K* irked me.  I let her know she was irking me.  I also made it loud and clear that I was not going to continue to have the disagreement that we were having.  She was agreeing with the first Jackhole surgeon.  She did not hear what I was attempting to say.  She was not hearing that I've followed the treatment plan for my shoulder 100%+.  She had it stuck in her head that "after your WLS you ate nothing but popcorn....when asked you said nope not supposed to but....its good and thats what I want".  SHe failed to remember that was the ONLY FOOD (other than toast) that didn't make me vomit for months on end.  When she got stuck on that fact...I got a bit pissed.  And made it VERY CLEAR she could "remember those things if she so choose...and that was 8 fucking years ago (okay I didn't say fuck but came fucking close),  I also made it clear that I would not change her perception, thoughts, or whatever it was that needed to be changed. SHe could think those things if she wanted.  But she did not have all the facts and I was no longer going to debate or argue the point w/her.  I have a new surgeon. He will make an informed choice about surgery and if I'm a canidate based on his findings. Not based on a dx on my chart for which I was never questioned about."  I got my point across. Which was good.

The guilt factor is really coming on hard after yesterdays blow up w/little man.  He sees someone at the same clinic that my pdoc/therapist work at.  I took the kids to dinner after our appts.  I asked little man how his appt was and was there anything he wanted to share w/me.  His face got red, looked away and said nope.  I poked a little bit and said "Did you talk w/Dr. K* about mommy's bad day ysterday and how I got upset and yelled at you?"  He sheepishly shook his head yes.  I told him I was proud that he could talk to him and he was honest w/me about it.  I followed the conversation up with "I hope you were able to remember that mommy did apologize?"  He didn't remember me coming to him afterwards in tears, telling him there was nothing that he did that was his fault and it was all mommy....and blah blah blah...  My heart sank.  And the last several hours guilt has crept in and I feel horrible.  I don't want to be that mom.  I've tried so fucking hard to change that and not blow up at my kids.  The damage is done.  Damn it all.

My heart continues to be heavy as I attempt to find and describe what that safe space will be, how I will get myself there, and what it would look like...in moments of distress, suicidal ideations, and severe downward spirals.  The heaviness comes from the resistance of doing the work.  It is work that I know needs to be done.  Work that I know in my heart I'm ready to do...to move fwd...to shit and get off the pot..  The other part is being able to describe those spaces...I was able for the first time in a very very long time....remove myself from the situation yesterday, to that spot that is safest and quietest for me....I was able to consiously choose NOT to use the hottest water possible...instead just hot enough to be soothing and drown out what needed to be drowned out at that moment.  In doing so, after using all the hot water, I was able to return to what I was doing, attempt to repair the damage w/little man (which i realize today didn't work) and move on. 

I've rambled in this post more than I ever intended to.  It's late.  Everyone is asleep.  The demon puppy is asleep and has finally stopped terrorizing everything/one insight. 

I blog for my own therapy.  Tonight...I needed that therapy.  I've wrote several blog posts and have them in the drafts.  Most likely they will never be published.  And maybe someday, when I'm not in a vulnerable space, when I'm able to speak about the sexual abuse and other crap....I will share them.  For now, it's off my chest.  And I know that I don't have to share them w/anyone but myself.