What a difference a day makes. A mommy helps, too.

I talked to my husband before I went to therapy. I asked him, as I often do when I feel rotten, what he thinks I should do. He said something brilliant this time. He asked me why sometimes therapy helps me and sometimes it doesn't. I knew the answer right away. It helps when the person who needs help is the one who gets to go to therapy instead of having me stand in their way so I don't have to feel like a whiner on account of whatever they might say or do. I decided to stay out of the way this time. 'Deciding' something like this might not be enough to make it happen when a dissociative disorder is involved, but I decided it anyway and hoped that having decided would still matter when we needed it to. And it did. It did help. And that is how the little girl ended up with her mommy when she needed him. He's a nice mommy who doesn't freak out and pick fights when Rambo gets triggered and goes off on a rampage, a kind mommy who doesn't chase little girls off of his lap. He's a mommy with a calm and soothing voice who holds hands with little girls and tells them ways they can remember that they are safe and protected. Remember I mentioned that many of my therapist's clients are children? And Rambo picked this guy. Maybe Rambo's a freakin' genius in his own unique (though often socially unacceptable) way.

I'm digging my swimsuit out of the dresser and going to Key West with the family. Inside kids who might get scared while we are gone have a new and improved place to go inside for rest and comfort now. They will curl up on the mommy's couch and rest their heads in his lap again while he holds hands with them and tells them again that they are safe. They will be safe in his hugs once more while he tells them that he loves them and they will feel the peace spread from his body into theirs. I will carry this place along with me for them and for all of us.

I hesitated to blog this because I understand that touch in therapy seems to be a sore point for some survivors. I don't want to upset anyone or spark any debate, though. Touch works for those who are not upset by it and OF COURSE only if it is non-sexual and the therapist has clean and respectful ethical standards. For me, with my particular situation and therapist, it works. And yet I totally understand those who would not want or trust anything like that and there is NOTHING wrong with not wanting touch in therapy. No one should ever be touched if they don't want to be. If this post makes you gag a little, that's okay. We are all different. I read certain stuff sometimes that makes me gag a little, too. But, when what I read that makes me gag seems like it is helping the person who wrote the gaggy stuff -- then good!

And now I will sleep and then begin packing and all that jazz when I get up. And yes, I will pack plenty of high-powered sunscreen so my uber-white ass does not spontaneously combust on the beach. And hopefully, the glare of the sun bouncing off my too-white-slick-with-sunscreen bod won't damage the vision of any innocent passers-by (but at least I won't be wearing black socks and sandals!). Hint: If you're headed to Key West, it's a small place and you should wear shades just in case we end up sharing some sand. Protect your peepers, people. Seriously, I'm hoping for fun, peace and just a general good time. I'll let you know how it goes. Maybe there will be pictures!! The little girl loves taking pictures and it's been a long time since she has been able to.