I’m tugging my hair here, literally, but not tugging it out. I’m unsure where I want to take this blog. I stopped writing down my therapy sessions, but then found I forgot what happened pretty fast. But I’m uncomfortable now just blurting them down on the page. Not sure what the change has been, but it’s there. I’m writing them down on a personal blog for now – that might work well. But then, what to do here, in public?
Because I still want to share, to have some back and forth if possible, to order my thoughts a bit for others to see. Even if it’s just a special few others. I do not want traffic. Just a few people who are going through similar things.
I had a therapy session yesterday. Ron was working for two days this week, so I went in.
I tend to struggle at Christmas – that long break, where activities stop, and where I’m mostly alone. This year, it’s been a bit better. One of my regrets of the session is I couldn’t convey to Ron why it seems better. Instead, we spent time on BIG PROBLEMS. Because I did see my family, and they are a big problem. And my son’s difficulties. And parts. So I left feeling quite a bit worse than when I arrived. My son’s difficulties are severe. And the more Ron comments on my family, the worse they seem.
I do have time to grieve now I suppose. But do I want to? I kind of want to get some enjoyment or at least some rest from these two weeks. They do feel special to me. Although loneliness snaps at my heels, a black dog of loneliness, I also feel some self-possession. I am starting to feel I have a right to stride about in this world, the same as anyone else. That is a change for me
I’ve continued going out first thing. Which is at least before noon. We have a few hours of light here it seems, and after 2 pm, it’s already getting dimmer. So just from a depression standpoint, I think it’s good to get the hell out there in the first part of the day whenever possible.
It’s not always what I want to do. For instance, I’d like to go off and buy some skates. That means instead of setting off walking, I’d drive to the big hardware store and try some on. Which I haven’t been able to make myself do. It’s hard to explain why not. It just feels impossibly complicated, when I’m struggling with morning depression and inertia. I think it’s child parts who want the walking. For them, driving is impossibly difficult. They enjoy the big park, where we walk on a smallish path, and it seems as if we’re in the middle of a large woods, exploring. And then the tea with lots of honey in the cafe, after. Nice and predictable, all stuff they can relate to.
That’s a reason I’m feeling better. I’m doing what parts want to do. I’m not dictating over them – I’m allowing them their way. When I get back, I’ve been too tired to go off shopping. Or it’s gotten too late, and we’d be bumping into rush hour. But, I’ve cheered up enough to tackle a few chores. Then we watch some TV, so beloved of kid parts. For these few days, we’re allowed to watch an hour here and there in the afternoon, not just evening.
Ron focused on the fact that I couldn’t carry out my plan of buying skates. I wish I’d explained this other stuff more – that there is a good side to letting parts have what they want. It leads to an overall happier feeling.
It was lovely of Ron to come in. I doubt he worked these two days for financial reasons – it was basically to see us more ‘high needs’ type of clients, most likely. I appreciate it.
We talked about how silent my family is. I’d gone to bake cookies with my sister, and she basically did not talk to me the whole time. Only about the mechanics of the recipes. It freaked me out, and I got a panicky sense of needing to leave right away. However, I lasted until we’d got two kinds baked.
I ask Ron whether he thinks it’s me – that’s how they are reacting to me, or whether that’s how they are with everyone? I go back and forth – is it me, something about my strangeness and ineptness, or is it them. Ron feels there’s no question really – it’s them. He says that for normal people, no matter what you’re like, they’d be trying to relate to a person, not staying silent.
Despite what he says, it’s like my mind is stuck on this point. Is it me? Is it a particular comment on me, that they do not talk to me? Sometimes I think so, and I think how unjust this is. Other times, I see that this is their fear-based mode of functioning. This is how they cope with all the pain of this family.
Ron says it’s hard to see this when you’ve grown up surrounded by it. That it’s sad and painful to see. But that unless we see it, we can’t move on from that place. And he always adds, lately, that my family is extreme.
I say I do feel I see it. But like I said, I go back and forth. Nothing is totally simple.
And, this is unrelated. A blogger I followed took her own life it seems. I am so sad this happened. Rest in peace lovely. You are missed.