My mood has headed south again. Sigh. I was fairly happy with my last therapy session, because I felt I’d said what I needed to say, and I cried a bit, because it was sad, and I showed a picture which I drew…and it was fine. I felt pretty calm about it all.
Yesterday I spent a few hours with a friend, wandering around the middle of the city. We end up in the gay section of town, and sit there on a patio in the chilly spring sun. It was fun. I like the people here – they seem more diverse, and more accepting, than the usual city people. I assume they think myself and my friend are a couple, which is pretty funny. I feel kind of free and cool, despite my advanced age, sitting in the sun on this funky street, drinking a beer and watching people from behind my sunglasses.
My friend is more relaxed than I’ve seen her for a long time. She meets my eyes calmly and doesn’t obsess about anything really. She tells me she’s now seeing a therapist twice a week, for a half hour at a time. Maybe that’s what’s helping her, because she looks really good.
We share some history of unhappy childhoods, so we often talk a bit about therapy and healing, which I appreciate. She is really the only person outside of therapy whom I share any of that with. I tell her a bit about my troubles staying in the group, and how I told R that I had a crush. She’s fine with it and doesn’t make a big deal. I do not however mention parts. I just don’t know how to say that, and it seems too strange. Also, she’s laughed in the past about people who hear voices or who are DID. Which is probably not that serious, she likes to joke around, but it makes me worried about the subject.
Then, thoroughly chilled, we go off to a Thai place for dinner. It’s not bad. We both keep our coats on throughout, trying to warm up again.
Today, I was apparently supposed to go to a concert with my parents. I didn’t know it was today, and just picked up a message from my mother where she’s been waiting for me with my ticket. By this time the concert is well underway. It is very exasperating. Could she not have warned me that the concert was today? Yes, she told me the date a month ago when she said she’d try and get tickets. But I just heard ‘April’ and forgot about it. So, my hundred plus dollar ticket is gone to waste.
This is so typical of my mother. OK, I’m blaming her. But she does the least amount of communicating it is humanly possible to do. I saw her last Sunday – could she not have said there is a concert next week, it’s at this particular time? Would it have killed her? But she doesn’t think like that. To her, she said it once, however long ago, and she assumes it’s all anyone needs.
I feel guilty and angry all at once.
I’m also feeling things stirring that I’m blocking, hence the looming sense of depression. I think about going to bed with my semi trashy novel and calling it a day. I need to get groceries though still. And clean actually.