Updates, bravery and naughtiness

I’m home. My trip was amazing, but I’m glad to be home. I’ll admit that I didn’t want to come home; didn’t want to come back to my life, but now that I’m here, I’m glad. It’s nice to be around trees and gardens again and nice to have rain, having spent time in rainless countries. It’s especially nice to be able to eat and drink without thinking too much about hygiene or nasty diseases.

The other reason I’m glad to be home is that I’m not around my mother any more. I’ve spent three weeks with her and it’s just about done me in. Enough to bring back the darkness and thoughts of doing myself in. (To all you Captain Obviouses out there, yes that was probably predictable and thanks, I’ll know that in future.)

A contributing factor to the darkness is that I reduced my meds a few weeks ago, just before I went away. Yea, I know, not smart. I know that now. I was feeling good and taking two pills a day was annoying me so I thought I’d reduce the dose. Silly me. Actually “naughty” me, as the Wonder Therapist said, with a smirk on her face – “you naughty, naughty girl.” (She’s a member of the Captain Obvious club, too.)

I could spend this post on tales of woe about my mother’s behaviour, or how ordinary I feel, but I won’t. I’m feeling down enough as it is. Instead I thought I’d share a few marks of progress I experienced while away. I even surprised myself!

• Almost no pre-flight anxiety on the day of my departure, not even at the airport or on the plane. Once on board, a couple of drinks and some magic pills and I slept nearly the whole way
• I rode a camel AND on the spur of the moment, without “preparation” (whatever that might have entailed)
• I rode a donkey, also on the spur of the moment, and even if I was scared to death the whole time it was prancing up the side of a cliff knocking pedestrians out of its way, I still did it
• I talked to strangers (tourists and locals) interestedly and comfortably, without being embarrassed
• I went out looking for supermarkets in strange towns – WITHOUT A MAP! and without consulting the hotel concierge about where to go or what I might find
• I took taxis in countries where I don’t speak (or read) the language, without having a panic attack about where I might end up or what might happen
• I realised that my body is just my body, it’s not disgusting as I once thought, it’s just as “normal” as everyone else’s. Ok, I still don’t like it, but I don’t feel as disgusting about it as I once did
• I ate foreign food, without getting paranoid about what it might do to me
• I generally got through the days rolling with whatever happened, not worrying about what might happen next or getting paranoid that something bad would happen.
• And even when I was anxious, I was generally able to talk myself through it, without descending into a total panic-merchant

Even though my fortitude didn’t last the whole trip, I did well with these things. So a double smiley face to me

Emptying my head

I think I’m depressed. I’m back to blah. Sigh. I’m sick of it. It’s a long weekend here next weekend and I thought I might go away to try to break the cycle. I even thought I’d go to one of my favourite places (the one pictured in my header). Alas, the person who normally kitty-sits for me can’t do it next weekend. Sigh. (Totally as an aside, how this person runs a pet minding business when she’s not available most holiday weekends is totally and utterly beyond me.)

Anyway, having binged my way to emotional numbness, I thought I’d try to empty my head. Here goes…

I’ve been “dating” – or trying to. Only no one’s interested. I’ve been doing that online thing. The Wonder Therapist has been encouraging me to try to meet (or at least touch base with) as many men as possible, as a self-esteem booster. So, I contacted (another) eight guys last night. Six have already said they’re not interested. Terrific self-esteem booster, that one. Could this be the first time the Wonder Therapist is wrong about something?

The Wonder Therapist is going on holidays next week. For six weeks. Count them: six. She’s travelling the world to exotic locations. I’ll be seeing the Famous Back up Therapist while she’s away, and even though I know this will be ok (probably more than ok), I’m still panicking about the Wonder Therapist going. I feel childish and pathetic. Sigh.

My own motivation to go to exotic locations has totally evaporated. I don’t know where it’s gone, and I can’t seem to find it. My travel agent is still doing things for me, but really, I don’t know if I can do it.

I had to go to a work retreat this week – an overnighter with a bunch of colleagues I pretty much don’t like, and who pretty much trigger a whole lot of sh1t for me. I went. People are telling me I should be proud of myself for going. I’m not.

I haven’t been totally honest here lately. Well, I have been, but I just haven’t talked about the “real” issues for me at the moment. It’s all tied up with dating, and being rejected, and feeling like a fool. And my deepest, most intimate hopes and dreams. I’m a failure. There, I said it. I’m a failure and the things I want most in life won’t happen, so what is the point of anything?

On top of all this, every time I walk past the refrigerator I put on weight. The new “healthy eating” plan the dietician put me on has been working very well – NOT. It’s so hideous. I can’t stand the sight of myself.

The little pills I fought so hard last year have started calling to me again. I know that sounds crazy and I know I shouldn’t listen. I’m just so tired. So very, very tired.

The magic of therapy

A while ago I wrote about not feeling like a girl, and wanting to wear a pretty dress, to feel beautiful and special. Something odd has happened since then.

Yesterday my anxiety and pain levels were through the roof so I made a dash to the chemist (drug store). On the way I stopped by this great little clothing store near work. I came out with two (more) skirts and a pair of pants (trousers).

Skirts? Me?

Yep. I’ve bought a skirt or two and I’ve been wearing them. I even LIKE wearing them.

Ok, they’re long and not revealing at all, but I’m enjoying them. I now have four or five in my wardrobe. I still don’t really feel “beautiful” or “special” but I like the skirts. I feel good in the skirts.

I still don’t understand how these things happen. I guess it’s just part of the “magic” of therapy – things that once seemed impossible are now not only possible, but even enjoyable.

Repeat

Two things happened in my therapy session last night that keep playing over and over and over in my head.

• My therapist said she learns something from every client. I’m sure that’s true, but what on earth could she possibly learn from me???
•  We talked more about the fact that summer is coming and all that means to me. In a moment of unguarded openness – and amidst snivelling, childlike sobbing – I said, “For once in my life, I want to look like a girl.” I can’t get this out of my head – nor the annoyingly doe-eyed nod of understanding from my therapist. Is this a good thing? A sign of progress in disguise? I don’t know.

Therapy is hard enough sometimes without having the session on endless repeat as well.

*Sigh*