'Just stop testing me!'. This was my frustrated plea to Chris on a Sunday morning. I know now he wasn’t. He was only causally checking arrangements I had made for lunch with family members. But it sure felt like an interrogation to me.
He softly replied ‘I think it’s you testing yourself’ and perhaps I am.
‘I think it’s you testing yourself’
It’s unsurprising really when you think about it. I continue to suffer agonising grief whilst being assessed and analysed with regards my injuries. While someone tries to work out just how injured and damaged I am.
In these assessments I have been told what I might experience or find challenging yet I’m still left in a middle of a fog of uncertainty. It’s a continuous shower of negative views on what life I’ve been left.
What has been missed by the assessments is that my world has been turned upside down and stolen. What I thought was right and secure has been taken away from me rather ripped out of my hands.
Now after someone is just causally kicking me, gross and indignant I know, it is.
Is there a test to assess my level of emotional pain and grief?
I don’t think so. They just assess just how damaged my body is, I’m just piece of evidence at a crime scene.
'I’m just piece of evidence at a crime scene.'
Being tested over and over again by professionals has left me hypersensitive. The result is I have only a have negative view of myself.
I used to have a strong sense of me and self awareness. I could reflect strongly and honestly on my thoughts and actions however now I find myself not knowing who I am.
Chris was recently told I had put myself in a box and closed the lid. Maybe I am in a box with a blanket over me. But the question is who put me in that box?
Current music: This Women’s Life, Kate Bush - ‘I should be crying but I can’t let it show’.
No quick wins I'm waiting for the test results to come in.