Chewing Concrete

Today’s treatment was...weird. Not great, not terrible...just weird. 

I got off from work at midnight and went straight to bed. At 4am, I woke up and used my index card list to make sure I packed everything and didn’t leave anything super important behind. (I once went snow skiing without packing pants.) Mom got to my house around 4:30am and we hit the road. She had laid the seats down in the back of her Murano and made a whole little bed.

Y’all. 

This woman. 

I crawled into the back of the car and laid down on the pallet my mom had made and conked out. I woke up around 8:30am, long enough to eat breakfast, and went back to sleep. 

When we got to Ormond Beach, it was around 1pm. We were too early to check into the hotel, so we grabbed lunch at La Catrinas. Let me tell you...guac to die for. 

After we ate, I went for my 4th treatment at Life is Ketaful. 

Dr. Self came in and checked in on how I’d done this weekend and whether I’d noticed any changes to my mood/affect. I told him that Saturday was a decent day. Sunday was miserable. I described the brief lifting of the weighted blanket I’ve been carrying around on my shoulders. He felt good about what I had to say and he said I’m pretty much where he expected me to be at this point. 

Today, we cranked the dosage up a bit more, but less aggressively. 

From the time I hit my head on the sun visor in the car before going into the building to the moment when that needle hit my arm—I was agitated, aggressive, irritated, and just plain grumpy. 

When the treatment started, I realized the playlist I had chosen was not going to work. Throughout this treatment, I changed playlists about 3 times. The music never was quite right. I think my vibe and energy going into the treatment was off, which made it harder to relax and allow myself to fully lean into the dreamlike wave that I have experienced during other treatments. 

At one point, my mom changed my playlist for me and I sat up straight and asked her, “are you mad at me??”

Of course, she wasn’t—but something was just “off” this time. It wasn’t as enjoyable as the previous times. 

At one point, I had a conversation with Bill W. and he told me that I have a voice and words that need to be heard. That was pretty damn awesome. 

After the treatment ended, mom and I left the clinic and headed to the hotel. 

I am literally feet away from the ocean at. This. Moment. 

Ocean therapy is a go. 

Also, there’s a badass pool right outside my room that faces the ocean. So I can swim in non-salty water and still have the beach experience. Most people think I’m salty enough. 

I am going to crash tonight and wake up tomorrow ready to face whatever Tuesday decides to throw at me.