Copyright © Reading and Recovery
Design by Dzignine
Tuesday, June 23, 2015

Stuff my therapist said: weather edition

I have a kickass counselor. Seriously, she's just incredible.

I can't recommend therapy enough. This is my second go-round with therapy, post-divorce. My first therapist, immediately after my divorce, was also lovely, but we didn't quite mesh. I still saw her for a year or so, and despite not meshing, I learned a lot from her, so this is not to speak ill of her, just to say that the treatment we were attempting didn't work out so well for me. However, I learned a ton about boundaries and how to speak up for myself, and I credit that to her.

New therapist, who I shall call C, is perfect for me at this time in my life. I sought her out to try and get some help with acceptance - that is to say, help adjusting to the fact that my life is the way it is and that is just how it will be. Also, for help with binge eating disorder (which I also have, did I mention?). And she has been so helpful, so supportive, so kind and encouraging and she is firmly on team me and I love her to pieces.

All that to say, sometimes she will utter a remark that just gobsmacks me and truly makes me look at things in a different light. It's like, I can't navigate through my own head to get to a place of acceptance and understanding, but she knows how to get there and guides me.

We had this conversation the other day:

Me: It's like I'm constantly having to do emotional cleanup for everyone. Me, the kids. It's exhausting.

C: It is. It's kind of like a hurricane. Hurricanes aren't our fault, right? We can't control a hurricane. But after it comes through, we do have to clean up our yard.

Me: *Gobsmacked silence*

This made so much sense to me, particularly living in hurricane country.

She's so right. The emotional storms are not my doing. And afterwards, I have to clean up my yard (process my feelings), because if I don't, the next time the hurricane comes through, the yard just gets worse and worse and then the idea of cleaning the yard is utterly overwhelming and then you end up taking two days of sick time to lie on the couch in the dark in your pajamas binging Parks and Rec and periodically sobbing (yes, that's based on personal experience) (also, if you haven't seen Parks and Rec go and watch it, because silly as it sounds, that optimistic little show was a bright spot for me during dark days).

I feel hope, these days. Hope that better days are ahead for me and my kids, hope that all of these feelings are manageable, hope that my future is not as bleak as it sometimes feels. There are bad moments, certainly, but I'm learning the key is that you can let them take you down, temporarily - maybe you wallow, maybe you vent, maybe you eat (hallooooo), or maybe you take the time to process things appropriately (ONE DAY!) - but don't let them take you out.

0 comments:

Post a Comment