now is a good time to panic

therapy day!
9 February 2012, 7:29 pm
Filed under: nonsense, therapy

Yesterday it rained all day long, which did not interfere with my plans of doing nothing at all. So that was good. Today, though, was THERAPY DAY!! Wooo! I have to go to the VA at Tripler Army Medical Center for my PTSD related issues (of which there are many). I stack all of my appointments on Wednesday mornings so that I only have to go to TAMC once a week… which is plenty. Parking is ridiculous, and I’m always accosted by dirty old retirees trying to make small talk and hit on me. Gross. On top of those two things (of which either would be horrifying enough), it smells like musty old man in there. Seriously. It’s oppressive. It’s not the way my grandfather smells, which is of Old Spice and fancy shampoo. It’s like a musty attic, overlaid with a hint of gym locker.

I digress. I get to the VA, and my favorite seasoned cop is hanging out, regulating in the entrance to the parking garage. I was singing along to Pepper on the radio when I pull up, and he offers to let me sing a verse into his radio. I decline, and take my place in line to jostle for a parking space. Then it’s time to head inside. On my way in, there’s a man that looks like Father Time being loaded into an ambulance, strapped to a gurney. He waves merrily at me, and chants something in what sounds like Danish. I have no idea what’s happening, so I give him a thumbs up and continue on my way.

Once I make it into the Mental Health check in area, I wait in like for 12 minutes (yes, I timed it) while an elderly Hawaiian gentleman that has his face tattooed tried to sell the receptionist Amway. I am not even kidding. Finally they open up the second window and it’s my turn. Behind the window is a receptionist named Trini, who is the sweetest, nicest, friendliest person in the ENTIRE WORLD. This is no exaggeration. She makes Ghandi look like Charles Manson. She and I chat for long enough that I managed to make myself late for my appointment to get my brain picked by Allison. As much as I wanted to blame this on the tattooed-face-guy, I’m pretty sure that lying to your therapist is counter-productive, so I came clean at the start of my session.

Once Allison and I finished my appointment, it was time for group. If you have never participated in group therapy, it’s something you should try at least once. It consists of a bunch of strangers sitting around judging themselves and each other, while one or two therapists act as mediators and try to keep things on track. Today we had a small group session, with only three crazy people and one therapist. He’s actually a social worker for homeless people, and volunteers to work with our group. Incredible. I guess homeless people get tedious and he needs some whacked out unstable females to liven things up. Our group is two hours long, with a ten minute break in the middle. It usually goes quickly, and today’s morning appointment was true to form. Three straight hours of talking about feelings and crap can get pretty draining, so I typically go home and take a nap.

 I managed to make a wrong turn leaving Tripler when I was on my way home and ended up almost in downtown Waikiki before I realized what was happening. That is not a good place to be during lunch hour traffic. People ‘drive with aloha’ here in Hawaii, which means that they do not use their blinkers, they have no idea how to merge, and god help you if you are in their way, because your ass is getting sideswiped. I managed to pull a u turn and get back home without damaging Steve’s car, myself, or any pedestrians, and went straight to bed. Kaiser and his crazy eye decided to join me.


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Comment by Jessica Russell

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