May. 31st, 2017

avashida: (Default)
Today was my second - and first real - session with my occupational therapist. The last session was a kind of introductory thing, going over my history and what's wrong with me and what I want to fix/improve - and even that gave me hope, because she's so nice. The first doctor who really listens to me, and doesn't give the impression she's staring at the clock. The first I can really relax with, and even giggle with.

She told me then that our first few sessions would be her getting me to do things, so she could observe how my mind works and how well I focus, things like that. Today was arts and crafts, and I felt really silly and self-conscious as she offered me a choice between fabric printing, making a collage of my life (???) or jewellery-making. I picked the jewellery - I had some vague idea of making myself a bracelet to keep my house key on, since that's how I like to wear it when I'm outside (why do girl clothes not have pockets??? I don't want to carry a whole damn rucksack when I go to walk the dogs, just to hold my keys!) That didn't happen, though - the elastic-y string was too thick to go through the beads I picked, so I ended up using pink wire and threading lots of tiny, tiny beads onto it. Complete with dozens of sparklies and a proper clasp lock.

We were both surprised to see that I managed to focus for an hour and ten minutes straight. It wasn't like we were just sitting in silence while I threaded beads - that would have been horrible and awkward. We talked while I worked, and there were a few moments when we both laughed over some hilarious moment in my childhood. I told her about how one of my blog followers had raised the question that I might be on the autism spectrum, and mentioned the list I found of symptoms of Asperger's in girls that matched up perfectly to my life. She admitted that she had also made a note of possible autism during our first session, from some of the things I'd said, but also that it was important to be aware that a lot of the symptoms of autism/aspergers can also be symptoms of trauma, and since I've gone through plenty of that... It will be difficult to tell, at least at this stage. I agreed - I'd already thought of that, and discussed it with Reno, when I found the list/the issue was raised.

I took the bracelet apart three times to rearrange beads - I wanted them to be symmetrical - but the fourth time I gave up and refused to do it again, and you know, I actually love it a lot more because it's a bit chaotic. It feels very me, and it makes me really happy to look at it and have it on my wrist. It feels like a symbol of hope, maybe, like a promise that I'm getting better. That I will get better. Which I knew already, but... I don't know. It makes me happy, it makes me feel optimistic. It's the first creative thing I've made, physically, in over a decade maybe, and the first creative thing I've done in months and months. It's already very precious to me.

I walked home from the health care system through the woods - twice today; once after my appointment this morning with the gp over the sore lump under my arm, which yes, I knew already was definitely not cancer; after the cyst two (three?) years ago I see a gynaecologist every six months for follow-up check-ups, because apparently ovarian cysts have a habit of coming back. And that doctor has felt the lump each time (and palpitated my breasts - still think that's a fantastically hilarious phrase) and never been concerned. I'm to schedule an ultrasound, but the dr didn't think it was serious or that there was much to be done about it, alas. The plan is to call back the next time it flares up and makes moving that arm impossible; maybe I'll get a different response then. But he was a lovely guy too. Young and kind of adorable with his curly blond hair; I wanted to pet him.

But yes - walked home twice! I moved five or six snails from one side of the path to the other, when I saw them going; saves them time, and I hated the thought of a bike or something smashing one. I also 'saved' a worm from a bird on the first walk, but when I went to check where I'd left it on the second walk, the poor thing had died. I was afraid of that...and still feel awful and conflicted about it. Google declares that worms don't feel pain, but would a fast death have been better than a slower one? I don't know, and I don't really believe that good intentions count for much, only actions and results. I do know I couldn't have lived with myself if I'd just kept walking, seeing this bird peck at this curling and uncurling worm... Any more than I could keep walking when Reno and I saw ants swarming a caterpillar that one time, and rescued it and released it in his mom's garden later.

I am weird. And a hypocrite, since I eat chicken and tuna - not often, but still. One of these days I'm going to go full vegetarian; I think it's inevitable at this point.

The other cool thing about today - besides having Reno home, recovering from his surgery (it sucks that he's in pain, but lovely to have him home all day, it feels like we've reconnected so much since his first day in hospital - even those three days of staying during the whole visiting hours time felt weirdly magical and awesome, like we'd clicked after a little while of drifting a bit) - is that I saw a review for Magikarp Jump on The Mary-Sue, and obviously had to download it, and Reno did too...and it is silly and adorable and hilariously fun. It's definitely not going to replace Pokémon Go in my heart, but it's giggly and lovely to play side by side with Reno, laughing at ourselves for spending hours feeding magikarps and training them to jump higher than the rest XD

And now I must go and take the puppies for a walk. Let's hope this is the start of my being able to start keeping a proper journal again! Fingers crossed. I miss having the record of my life to read back on. Maybe Dreamwidth can be a new beginning too, like all the others in our lives lately. Here's hoping!


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