And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter—they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long.
I floated through the weekend (not in a good way). Unable to escape myself, I thought about going back into therapy. Having few people to talk to about my “issues” being the main reason. It’s probably safe to say that if you are wondering if you need therapy, you probably do.
I hate therapy, to be honest. I liken it to scratching at old wounds. The small amount of comfort/ accomplishment you feel is tainted with the feigned friendship of a person you PAY to listen to your weirdness; a person who parrots your thoughts in such a way that you might come to your own conclusions… because you’re not going to listen to what someone else thinks you should do… you’re supposed to decide for yourself how to unmuddle, well, yourself. That’s not my kind of dance. I talked myself out of going back: you cannot afford it, you already know how to get through this crap, things could be worse, it’s not like you’re suicidal, you just need to rest. All those things are true; I push on.
What if I unravel? That’s the main fear, isn’t it? You unpuzzle your “issues” somehow with the help of a stranger then you have to be able to put yourself back together again. Things got weird with my last therapist so I stopped going… even if I wanted to see someone, I’d have to pick a new person and start all over. I’m tired just thinking about it.
Be kind to yourself. I’m trying. Also, I’m wondering when it all started. Was it last week or 3 days ago when I somehow tumbled down the rabbit hole? These things can creep up on me in the sneakiest ways. I know it’s not because of my birthday, I’m surprisingly at peace with turning 38 next week. I think old stuff just got stirred up some way. Things I thought I’d forgotten or things I cannot quite remember.
I wrote this post yesterday but didn’t plan on publishing it, since it seemed so… pathetic. I’ve been getting increasingly ill the last week and a half and I just figured out this morning that the multi-vitamins I’ve been taking have soy, dairy, AND gluten in them. I’ve essentially been poisoning myself for almost 2 weeks. I thought I was losing my mind over the weekend, honestly. I’d been nauseus, gotten rashes and even had a bad breakout. I was convinced my “miracle” was over; that I was regressing and then this wicked depression (another symptom of accidental glutening) settled in Friday night. I still feel pretty awful today. But I’m optimistic that at least I will feel better again by my birthday.