Today, I had a medical appointment, and it got me thinking—which, to be fair, isn’t uncommon given my PTSD that gets triggered with medical stuff easily. Let’s get one thing straight: I can handle a fair bit of activity, but one little medical appointment takes me out for the entire day. If it’s on the phone or via video, it’s less bad but still knocks me over like a feather-weight boxer.

Today’s appointment was one of the better ones, surprisingly. I actually like the therapist I deal with in a weight loss program. She’s a gem, being connected to the bariatric clinic she tends to be her helping with binge eating and emotional eating and all that jazz. My quirky little issue is that I was on Ritalin as a kid, so I don’t feel hunger which isn’t unheard of with that medication. So I don’t have to see her often, just the bare minimum check-ins because there are no actual eating issues. Conveniently, though, we connect so well that we cross over into other topics. Today was one of those days. How she knows when something is bugging me is beyond my comprehension, yet she does.

I had not realized how much I actually needed to start doing something like my little website. I reflected on it the other day, yes, but I didn’t realize the huge impact it was having on me. I get up each day, even if it’s a bad day, and there’s something for me to do—something that even just a single post and no writing makes me feel fantastic.

We dug into that a bit today as to why this tiny website is such a game changer. We both agreed by the end that it’s the feeling of community that starts to build up with followers. It’s the sense of productivity and giving back to improve things and taking that leap to put myself out there and trust myself enough to be brave. Brave isn’t about being fearless; it’s about doing it even though you are afraid.

Another revelation was that doing this website allows me to let things that weigh me down emotionally out, preventing them from building up like a pressure cooker. She did agree that yes, I am also learning about myself as I do it. But there’s so much more to it than I ever thought about. It is a lot to take in mentally. With this website, I get to be free; I get to truly shine as Siearra Frost, not what society makes me conform to appear to be.

She also had her Sherlock hat on and caught onto something being amiss: my living situation has been a real downer. After my daughter passed away, my already horrid relationship with her father took a turn from bad to worse, and for a while, we needed each other so it was good and calm. But soon enough, things went downhill fast. I finally admitted that the situation had been physical, with police involvement, no less. The kicker? He didn’t just push me into an ASD meltdown; he pushed me past the point of shutting down, past being nonverbal, and had me rocking—something I rarely do, and when I do, people usually miss it. Not him, though. I was backed into a corner, begging him to lay off in ways that weren’t funny. Even when I lost my ability to speak.

It took him days to get me to that meltdown stereotype TV loves to portray. And believe it or not, I swung and apparently, for someone who has never thrown a punch, I have a mean right hook. One swing—that was the extent of my cornered, terrified meltdown, overloaded and then some. He never raised a hand to me again after that, but he still tries to gaslight me. Hence, I tend to hide in my room—not just due to pain and other medical crap that can cause it but to avoid him. Often can feel like incarceration on days I feel really cooped up and want to go out. Such is my life though and yea there would be less days of being in my room if he wasn’t a factor however there would still be a fair number due to the medical crap.

That was the first time I ever spoke of that incident, I was ashamed. She helped me see it as self defence. I had no clue how much it was weighing me down thinking I was in the wrong when I took that swing. Having that topic talked about and my view of my own actions straightened out was exhausting however I feel better about it. I will never be able to thank this woman enough.

Why do I stay? With the pittance I get from disability, I’d need a roommate, and frankly, the horror stories there scare me more than his nonsense. So I stay with the devil I know. I told her my emergency plans just in case things get bad again. She was happy to hear that, happy to know I have a plan to get out, even if it takes a while. The biggest part for me was admitting that incident. I had, and still carry, so much guilt about it. She told me it was self-defence—that he gave me no other choice. It was freeing but also exhausting to have that heavy weight suddenly lifted. I needed it though. I had not realized how badly that was impacting me to keep held within because I felt guilty for swinging. Sometimes admitting to the ugly stuff can help you feel better, like in this situation.

For someone I deal with very rarely, we have that connection you want with a therapist. One who doesn’t just stay within the defined box but helps on the outside of the box. Conclusion

Reflecting on today’s medical appointment, I realized just how much my website means to me. It’s not just a hobby; it’s a lifeline that offers community, productivity, and emotional release. My therapist’s unwavering support has been a beacon of hope, helping me navigate the complexities of my living situation and past trauma. Her active listening and professional yet empathetic approach have been transformative. Despite the exhaustion from medical appointments, these interactions remind me of my strength and resilience. As I continue my search for a new family doctor, I am empowered by the connections and support that guide me through these challenges.When I was in crisis due to meds needing some adjustment, I was so frozen I forgot what steps to take, yet I was comfortable enough with her to reach out and go, “help me.” Despite that not being the usual role, she plays anymore, she was still there and got me an appointment with her faster than I could have gotten one in the community.

She gave me tips to help with my issues of medical settings and made a call herself to make sure they got how much it impacts me and to speed up the community psych doc wait. Why there is a wait with people in crisis is beyond me. When I say crisis, I mean it was bad, I was back to wearing elastics because in my teen years and the first week after loosing my daughter I was a cutter. I wanted to do that again so was wearing my elastics and that was a big flag for me to reach out. She was right there with me even behind the scenes she was upfront about delaying the next step with bariatric clinic process but listened with I said to delay it would actually impact me negatively and why. Active listening at it’s finest to say the least.

She got the ball rolling, reminding me of what needs to be done and then checking up on me despite that interaction not having anything to do with bariatric stuff. This is the sort of connection you want with your therapist. Professional and yet comfortable, peaceful, and someone you trust.

The other thing she made me happy about and reinforced my belief that I still need to be hunting for a family doctor. I thought I found one; however, he took a quick skim at the medical history and meds, and when I told him I was having issues sleeping, he said, “it’s because you’re on too many meds.” Her facial reaction told me how unimpressed she was with that comment. How can you judge that I am on too many meds when you haven’t even learned what medication treats what, let alone the fact I was on triple the amount two and a half years ago? He made me feel that work wasn’t good enough, and I had not realized it. She agreed: keep him to manage stuff for now yet keep looking for a new family doctor still.

Yes, medical appointments exhaust me. I can handle, at best, two in a week. However, it’s interactions like this that give me the ability to handle that much at all. It’s interactions like this that remind me I can be too hard on myself with things. Still wish they didn’t exhaust me so badly. I will still be exhausted tomorrow; it is the cost I deal with to get medical care. Oddly enough, though, when I am at a medical appointment with a friend or family member, I do not get this feeling. I can handle a bunch for others. The only thing I can think of is that, at the time, I am on a more professional footing with the medical staff, more co-worker in a way. Even if I can be a pain in their asses.

Reflecting on today’s medical appointment, I realized just how much my website means to me. It’s not just a hobby; it’s a lifeline that offers community, productivity, and emotional release. My therapist’s unwavering support has been a beacon of hope, helping me navigate the complexities of my living situation and past trauma. Her active listening and professional yet empathetic approach has been transformative. Even though we don’t interact often just due to what her role actually is, she is always there when I need her to help me get through stuff when it gets real bad. Despite the exhaustion from medical appointments, these interactions remind me of my strength and resilience. As I continue my search for a new family doctor, I am empowered by the connections and support that guide me through these challenges.

What do you find the most taxing thing to do, and how do you handle it?