Haybitch Abersnatchy
Bio
I'm just a poor girl, from a poor family; spare me this life of millennial absurdity. I also sometimes write steamy romances under the pen name Michaela Kay such as "To Wake A Walker."Stories (45/0)
Who Needs a Therapist When (Pt. 16)
In many carer industries, they use the term "Compassion Fatigue." This generally refers to the trauma, exhaustion, and stress that results from overextending yourself in the care of others. It's a common issue in the fields of counseling and hospice, as people lose themselves in the fight to ease the suffering of others.
By Haybitch Abersnatchy5 years ago in Psyche
Who Needs a Therapist When (Pt. 14)
So, I've been trying to get a job teaching. For, like forever. Well, a couple years at least. See, I thought that since I was having a hard time writing, but I really really enjoyed teaching and engaging in creative writing workshops, that maybe that could be a good alternative to vaccilating between a job that left me plenty of time to write and left me too poor to live and a job that was full-time, but left no space for writing in my life.
By Haybitch Abersnatchy5 years ago in Psyche
Who Needs a Therapist When (Pt. 13)
In elementary school my teachers, year after year, wrote basically the same note on my report card, "Kathryn is a good student, but needs to learn to keep socializing to recess." I eventually learned to keep my thoughts to myself when the teacher was talking, but it didn't stop those thoughts from flooding out the rest of the time. Most of middle school and high school after school activities were basically just hanging out together and talking in different places. In a college art class I was nicknamed "Chatty Kathy" because I liked to talk, sing and narrate while I worked. Most of my close friends and I bonded over hours and days of deep, long conversations.
By Haybitch Abersnatchy5 years ago in Psyche
Who Needs a Therapist When (Pt. 12)
When I was very small, I had a recurring nightmare that I was being crushed by a boulder. Upon waking, rather than leaving the nightmare behind, I was visited instead by vivid, disturbing hallucinations: My body was shrinking. I would stare at my fingers, tapping them together as my hands became smaller, daintier, and near invisible. Yet, even with my eyes closed, the sensation was there—the shrinking, dissipating feeling as I feel myself swallowed, suffocated by my suddenly enormous bed. Panic would swell as I'd spend what felt like an eternity gripped in the certainty that I was shrinking down to nothing.
By Haybitch Abersnatchy5 years ago in Psyche
Who Needs a Therapist When (Pt. 11)
I have been meaning to make myself a coffee for about two hours now. Last time I did this it was 6 PM and before I found myself making a coffee it was obviously too late to drink. Yesterday I really intended to make lunch. I was hungry. Food needed to happen. But it was still almost 4:30 before I remembered to make lunch.
By Haybitch Abersnatchy5 years ago in Psyche
Who Needs a Therapist When (Pt. 10)
So, up front. This is not a call for help. This is not a request for care. I am perfectly capable of committing myself to professional care if my ideation goes from, "well, that'd be nice" to "let's do this." I'm good at means reduction and putting safety measures in place. So please refrain from any helpful actions. That is not what this is about.
By Haybitch Abersnatchy5 years ago in Psyche
Who Needs a Therapist When (Pt. 9)
Today was not a bad day at work. Busy, but that's normal. Hectic, and chaos, but that's just what happens in a public library. Interpersonal drama is at a moderate average, because none would be impossible in a workplace that is 95 percent female, but no one is really pissy right now.
By Haybitch Abersnatchy5 years ago in Psyche
Who Needs a Therapist When (Pt. 8)
A couple years ago, my best friend made me practice my "I Love You"s. And I do mean "made." I wasn't allowed to leave the house without a quick "I Love You," and she would randomly just prompt me with her own, "I Love You."
By Haybitch Abersnatchy5 years ago in Psyche
Who Needs a Therapist When (Pt. 7)
Me. I need a therapist. Thank you internet for being one. All tips will go to someday affording a real professional. This is a follow up from last week's post about how some of my dissociative states are less toxic than others.
By Haybitch Abersnatchy5 years ago in Psyche
Who Needs a Therapist When (Pt. 6)
Me. I need a therapist. Thank you internet for being one. All tips will go to someday affording a real professional. So, I consider myself an author. A novelist to be really unnecessarily specific. I've been writing and trying to get published for the better part of two decades now. I'm a veteran NaNoWriMo-er and a perpetual reviser of have a half dozen mostly completed manuscripts. Over the last several years, I've managed to carve out a few publications: One short story, some poems, and a few essays. Before that, I went on to get my masters in creative writing.
By Haybitch Abersnatchy5 years ago in Psyche
Who Needs a Therapist When (Pt. 5)
Me. I need a Therapist. Thank you internet for being one. All tips will go to someday affording a real professional. Back in high school, I used to do quite a lot of theater and public speaking. While my friends were plagued by nerves and stage fright, I, the anxiety- riddled mess that I was, had a unique stage fright gift. I'd still get a watery voice, the wobbling knees, the heart rate that stuttered and raced, I'd just get all of that after the presentation or play or song was over. Performing itself was like a trance—one where I couldn't focus on anything but what I was actively doing, one where the anxiety dialogue had to take a backseat until the important work was done.
By Haybitch Abersnatchy5 years ago in Psyche