Therapy Day

 As luck would have it, today was another of my twice a month therapy sessions at the Dayton, Ohio Veterans Administration. 

I put it that way because in some ways I needed therapy after last night's Cincinnati Bengals Super Bowl defeat. Oddly, outside of Connie and Paula here on the blog, the only long time acquaintances I heard from were Pittsburgh Steelers fans. One almost wished me good luck and the other was rooting for the Los Angeles Rams. Which I found odd after all those years of beatings the Steelers had laid on the Bengals. 

As far therapy went, I think my therapist "studies" up on certain sporting events because we will undoubtedly be discussing them. 

All went as expected as we talked about the usual suspects...mood swings etc. Today though was different in that I had time to take the usual infamous test/survey they give about your mental health. Questions include how is your concentration, how much sleep are you getting all the way to have you thought about self harm to yourself or others.

Photo by Toa Heftiba on Unsplash

For once, the question concerning self harm became specific. She asked if I ever tried to commit suicide. When I said yes, the overall tone of the session became much more serious. I told her the experience I had with a bottle of Jägermeister I used to wash down a whole months supply of anti depressants. Needless to say I am happy it didn't work. 

Sometimes I think self harm is just something which comes hand in hand with extreme gender dysphoria. When I think of all the crazy self destructive actions I did behind a wheel of a car, I feel I must have had some sort of guardian angel riding with me. I call those incidents passive attempts at self harm.

The ironic part of all this is, I grew up around suicide. My one uncle, my father in law and a couple other acquaintances committed suicide. You would think I would realize the loss to all of the others left behind. These days I do. On the brighter side also, years ago I tried to call the Veterans Suicide Hotline and got essentially nowhere. I hope today that is not the case and I don't think it is. Plus, my therapist and I have been together so long, I can quickly get ahold of her and use her as a resource.

Looking back at how this post started, I didn't mean to connect the dots between a football game and self harm but here we are. 

I am aware also of the exorbitant number of transgender women and men who try self harm as a coping mechanism. Back in my dark days before I developed a new group of supporting friends it seemed my only real friend was my dog. During my dark periods she would sense a problem and come up to me. 

I don't know if therapy helps to dredge up all of these dark moments but it does help me to see again life is but a circle. If you can live long enough to see it.