I ended up getting pretty sick. A flu cold mixture with allergies thrown in. I’m a lot better again but I’m feeling weak – walking to the store and back today was difficult, a bit. I haven’t seen anyone for a few days. When you live alone, getting sick is pretty lonely. All the little supports I’m trying to put in place in my life go away, because I can’t go out.
Tomorrow is a family Easter event. I’m not looking forward to it but at the same time I can’t quite ignore it either.
I skipped therapy for the first time in a year I think. I’d thought I’d be better in time to go, but on the day of, I realized there was no way. My eyes were just streaming with the allergies. A few hours before I sent an email saying I was sick. I’m supposed to give a day’s notice for cancelling, but he said it was OK. I’m assuming he won’t make me pay for the missed session. Luckily I almost never cancel, so I’ve got a good track record.
My mood has been not too bad, aside from feeling sick. And I was relieved to miss the dive into the dark side that therapy often entails. No post therapy recovery days this week. Phew.
But, predictably, now I am blue. I’ve been watching a mindless romantic comedy to cheer up. It kind of has cheered me up, but I’ve got so bored of it I’ve started writing here instead. In a way, it’s nice to watch beautiful, cheerful people with lots of money, in beautiful surroundings, with baloney problems that will solve themselves in ninety minutes.
But there are no good jokes in this. It was slim pickings at the library today, in the middle of a long weekend. This movie is called Baggage Claim and I don’t recommend it.
I’ve been obsessing mildly about a man at dance class. He’s not a crush, and he’s not a friend. He’s a guy that’s been dancing for two years, and really likes it. He goes to all the practices and he is very helpful. He’s taught me a lot of the steps. He’s really analytical, and can stop and figure out what I need to do – not easy because men’s steps are different. He had so much patience with me, and danced with me as much as with anyone else, even though I’m not much good.
The last practice I went to though, he suddenly ignored me. There were only three women there, and he wouldn’t dance with me. If I was the only person available, he sat out the dance.
I’ve been wondering if I did something. The only thing I can think of is I made a comment after a dance class, when he was coming in to take the next class. I just said wasn’t he taking me class, I missed my ‘lesson’ with him.
Maybe he thinks I’m after him???
Ack. Anyway. No big deal, but I’m sorry about whatever it is. I really appreciated his helpfulness and enthusiasm. I’ll likely never know.
I missed dance class and practice this week due to being sick.
I know I need more people in my life. I know if I’m happier, I’ll be more relaxed and more attractive to people. But partly, it’s just going out to things. I find it easier to go out to things that repeat every week – it’s less of a struggle for me if it’s a routine. Plus, I need things that don’t involve exercise, because exercise triggers me. So unfortunately. Because I love walking, and walking in groups would be a good way to be with people.
Sometimes, if find myself thinking hopeless things about myself. Sometimes, it’s as if it’s the voice of my father lecturing me. Pointing out how hopeless I am, how I’ve failed at everything, pointing out all the painful parts of my life, and how it all proves, that at my age, if I haven’t got it together, it’s way too late.
Then I catch it. If I can actually catch it – that harsh, lecturing tone, that negative slant on everything – if I can catch it, I can realize that’s not the TRUTH. It’s more of a torture mechanism.
I have found I can turn that off, stop that berating voice. I’m looking for a gentle loving voice, the real voice of calmness and truth. That says that life is life, good and bad, up and down, better events and worse events, better moods and worse moods. But I am not a label, I am not a loser, or bad, or hopeless, or ill, and what’s happened to me isn’t proof of anything about me. I am a person. I don’t need anyone beating me up anymore. Including myself.