Alone at home this Saturday night. If I’m at home I am mostly by myself of course. Today it’s been raining all day, with a cold buffeting wind as well. I went out earlier and met my friend D who helped me buy pillows and hyperallergenic pillow covers. One of my eyes is inflamed, and I think it’s my old pillows that are causing the trouble.
D helps me carry one of the huge bags with pillow and pillow cover through the blowing rain in a most heroic manner really, my coat blowing open, his umbrella turning inside out. He goes out in all weather, every day anyway. He says as he’s from the west coast where it rains all the time, if he didn’t go out in rain there, he’d never go out at all.
We stop for tea and I buy us both a custard slice, of which the custard part is pleasant, smooth and yellow, but the puff pastry on bottom and top has not been cooked long enough and so is doughy.
We chat about nothing much. I’d actually phoned him last night to complain about how I was feeling. For someone who has never been in therapy himself, he really does try and understand. I’m trying to explain to him why I go and why it makes me feel bad. He wonders why remember things that are so painful. Good point I say. I kind of lose track of why I would want to do this.
Really I’m not looking for the memories. They’re coming up for me, but I’m not talking about my childhood when they do. Anyway, he listens patiently. I want to tell him enough so he’ll understand something, but no scary details. For this last memory of my father, in any case, I can’t remember what actually happened, so there are no details. I just say I remembered something that upset me from when I was pretty young.
D says well, don’t you have to finish with therapy and then go out and do things that make you happy? I guess, I say, and change the subject.
The other friend I’ve discussed therapy with is J. She has been through therapy herself in the past for PTSD-related problems also. She understands more, but doesn’t really think I should be going. I’ve been in the past, as she has. She’s been trying to put her past behind her and focus on her present. And she went to some psychologist for three sessions who was covered by her insurance, who told her it’s best to only briefly re-visit a trauma, and then let go of it. So she seems to believe that now, that it’s all about letting go of it. Me re-visiting this stuff again seems wrong to her. She doesn’t come out and say this, but that’s the general sense I get.
This is discouraging to me. I feel enough doubt already that I’m doing myself much good. Sometimes I think I am, but other times it seems kind of hopeless. And the expense is considerable, though I can afford it as long as I have work.
Well, to be truthful, I do think it’s worth it. I think I’m going to feel better at the end of this. And my relationships with people have all improved for some reason. I’m more relaxed, at least between these periods of depression.
I am struggling with Ron, getting caught between anxiety about what he thinks, liking him, and feeling misunderstood at times. I don’t know. It’s a little difficult. On the one hand, I picture him there when I’m panicking, as a figure of safety really. On the other, I stress a lot about him, whether he likes me, if I stress him out, if I’m doing the wrong things or saying the wrong things. He’s pretty changeable. He’s not like a stable wise older figure who has it all figured out and always knows what to say.
I wish I had someone to go out with tonight. I used to have a friend that liked to go to movies, but we’re no longer friends. And I didn’t make plans in advance, so here I am by myself. I’ve been reading this afternoon, and tonight I may watch the end of the Star Trek movie I started yesterday.