Last night I broke the news to husband that I would prefer a higher level of care than the one that I’m set to go into.  It’s been confusing to sort out and thank god for the health insurance “case manager” who I’ve really bonded with over the phone and for our family therapy person.  I’m writing here now because I can’t speak to the case manager until Monday and I’ve started to feel support enough to understand how not to try and contain things that are hard for me to contain.  I don’t think I’ve ever felt such support before.  I didn’t know what it was.  It’s like moving into the eye at the center of a storm- the storm’s still there but it’s not blowing me around.  Moments of clarity are enough to start making sense of things.  She told me the other day, “I know you want to get better.”  Something that simple changed things enough for me to have more functional days toward the end of this week.  Otherwise, the messages I’m getting are, “I tell you the answer lies within but you don’t listen to me.”  Or, “You’re going on this quest to figure out what you can figure out on your own.  I just don’t think you’re listening.”  I’m so accustomed to that invalidation that I didn’t know I was being invalidated until it clicked now that he is not supportive- that all of my coming unhinged may have started with trying to claim space for myself and power within the marriage.  I’m pushing myself to say a bit more for the sake of the teens here. I run in smart and feminist crowds and I hide that my marriage is not supportive of me- in some big ways, not just this one.  I love him and I’ll work it out- it’s fixable- I feel on the cusp.  But what I want to say for the sake of those of you who are considering trying to approach issues now is that I see exactly how this happened- it happened because I needed a protector because I was reeling from the effects of sexual abuse.  So: “higher level of care.”  That’s what I keep being told I may need.  I feel so ashamed to want it.  Even in the bit that I feel steady now I still want it.  I know how bad things can get when therapy starts and I don’t want to quit and I know the other program I’ve been offered with only ½ of individual per week is not going to be enough.  I know I need a lot just to be able to hold on and that it takes me ½ hour to get around to spitting out whatever I need to say if I really need to say it and that there are a lot of serious issues- serious issues just for stabilizing then serious issues around ptsd.  And I feel I have an opportunity- like I had to crash the car of my psyche before attending to the repairs that had been needed for years.  I didn’t do it on purpose but I can’t loose the opportunity of this crash to see that those repairs are attended too.  I don’t want to go on limping.  The shame: I feel so totally humbled to ask for more.  (I hope there’s room for me in the program I want.)  I hope I can stick to my resolve to ask for more.   It’s the first suggestion I got from two msws and two psychiatrists but I kept pushing it away.  It’s so hard for me to see through the husband and into what’s good for me.  I never intended to be that cliché of a woman.  I can forgive myself just by saying that I understand how it happened.