This is not really a pity party, it just reads like one on the internet.

Last time I spoke with Old Guy, part of our conversation was me trying to get him to understand how certain 'therapeutic' mind games foster dissociation for me and he didn't seem to get it and he insisted that they are not the same thing. THEY ARE TO ME. And I felt like he didn't really hear or understand. The reasonable part of me wanted to let it go and chalk it up to different strokes. But it's not that easy. I guess it festered in the back of my mind for more than a week until I had a nightmare from it. I dreamed that someone had kidnapped one of my babies. I called the police and the cop on the phone said, "I think you just need to take medication, Lynn." Scarily, when he said that certain sentence, he said it with Old Guy's voice. The voice I love and would recognize anywhere. The same voice that used to help keep me sane in the middle of things that are NOT especially sane. This was terrifying to me because it was said with Old Guy's voice AND because I had to work like a son of a bitch to be taken seriously so someone would help me find my little girl and get her back before some crazy person hurt her. I tried to dismiss the nightmare too, but it caused a mental explosion and an email to Old Guy because I felt backed into a corner - like I HAVE to make some sort of decision about him. I don't like this. It has been causing problems, but maybe I'm glad I sent the email. I will talk to him Monday instead of Wednesday. I just want him to listen to me and help me find my little girl before she dies. I don't want to shove her in some storage unit and I don't want to be consumed by managing the toxic effects of 'medication' (DRUGS - and I would very literally DIE before taking any ever again) while she is tortured and killed. I know he cares about me. I just want to be able to feel it again like I did before the old incident. I need to be able to trust someone enough and be close enough to them to have some real help in finding the little girl while she can still be saved. That sounds like a simple thing, but I assure you - it is not. It even slops over onto New Guy even though nothing traumatic has happened with him. None of this is simple for a person who has been seriously injured many times by people I trusted who were supposed to help me. Now it is VERY hard to trust anyone at all or to let anyone help me. This has all finally produced the kind of person who, if in some awful accident, would probably use the last of her strength to crawl off into the brush on the side of the road and hide from paramedics SO THEY CANNOT HURT ME. And yet I really need help before I bleed right the fuck out.

My first clue that the stuff swirling through my head from the last appointment should not have been blown off was when I watched 'Monk'. I love that show, but there is a character on there (Captain Stottlemeyer) whose voice sounds an awful lot like Old Guy's. When the two of us are not doing well, I cannot watch Monk because that man's voice makes me cry. And besides the Monk incident, my youngest daughter's pet fish died. She loved Swimmy. Oh how she sobbed. It was truly horrible. And the little girl inside connected with my daughter's loss and thoughts of Old Guy immediately surfaced and it was all I could do to be there for my daughter because I was on the verge of one of those collapses that lands me on the floor in a sobbing heap.

You know what? Enough TMI for one morning. I'm much preferring my posts on the tanking financial markets lately (told ya it would be a double dip - jobless recovery my ass). I think I'm gonna go slam a drink and go to bed. Because my personal life is not like the stock market. I can't profit from a colossal disaster in this arena. There is no inverse ETF for the personal shit and I can't even get around that by shorting myself on margin. Things are so bad, I just want to blot everything out. FTW. Jesus H. Enough.