I don’t FaceTime…. or have a Bestie 😢 but if I did….. this would be it!
Anyone want to be my BFF?
I don’t FaceTime…. or have a Bestie 😢 but if I did….. this would be it!
Anyone want to be my BFF?
So… that’s Christmas 2017 done.
How was it for everyone? I’ve had a really lovely time. Very relaxing and peaceful…. well, after the madness of Christmas eve, rushing around like a madman trying to get presents delivered! But after Christmas eve, it has been just lovely.
I feel really happy actually. And hopeful. Hopeful for the year ahead. I have plans, goals and dreams.
I am toying with the idea of a new blog. Not in place of this one of course! But an additional one, one where I can use the space for positive affirmations, one that will be lighter and more fun and just a break from blogging about the doom and gloom of therapy and mental health shit.
Next year I want to concentrate on creating my own happiness and that for me involves healthy living, bringing beautiful things into my apartment – things I love, quirky things and most importantly colourful and cheerful things.
I want to begin concentrating on making more art and hopefully selling more art, I really need to get more serious about that.
Trying to get my lazy ass off the sofa and onto the yoga mat again would really help me. Exercise remains a battle for me. Movement for some reason is really difficult, psychologically speaking. I love yoga. In the summer I was doing around 40 minutes every day and it felt fab. So I don’t know why I struggle so much with maintaining it. I am guessing it has something to do with my freeze response, perhaps some self-sabotage and also having a chronic immune disease and accompanying crippling fatigue doesn’t help!
More meditation! I do meditate regularly-ish. But I’d like to try daily for some added Zen in my life.
Losing weight… I know, I know.. yawn, right? BUT, guys…. I am proud to tell you that since the end of June/July time, with lots of breaks in between, I have lost 1-2 dress sizes ( depending on the shop or garment). I have no idea how much weight I’ve lost. Scales are not my friend so I don’t keep them in the house. And I don’t want to know either, I am happier to feel the difference in my waistband than what a scale says.
I can see the weight loss a tiny bit, but when I look at myself I still see fat. Which I suppose is sort of accurate since I am still overweight. But I just see how much I still have to go. But I am not letting it get me down, I am letting it fuel my determination. Other people are starting to notice and comment on the weight-loss, especially if they haven’t seen me for a while. So anyway, weight loss is a major goal for 2018.
Part of creating my own happiness is a realisation that I have to own my life. I have to live. I have to find ways to really move forward and begin achieving the things I want for myself.
It isn’t easy, it’s never going to be easy. Having Lupus and Fibromyalgia severely clips my wings at times. No matter how much I want to achieve my goals, the illnesses WILL interrupt that over and over. But the important thing is that when I AM well, that I get right back on it and don’t get too discouraged.
So part of the idea behind the new blog is that it would really help me concentrate my mind on the good things I am achieving and want to achieve. It would be a way to really hone in on what I want and what it is I need to be thinking about to achieve those goals.
I started an instagram account as a lot of you know, and I have found that to be so helpful, to give myself daily affirmations, notes of encouragment and the like. It’s really lifted my mood and allowed me to concentrate on what’s important to me. So a blog space would allow me to elaborate on that idea.
I have talked here about my goals and I notice that I haven’t even mentioned therapy as a goal.
Do I have goals for therapy? Maybe.
It’s not an area of my life that’s bringing much happiness or healing right now and I am struggling to see a way forward with it. It feel so hollow and empty. It simply isn’t enough for me anymore. Not as it is.
And I know therapy was never designed to be someone’s whole life. It was never meant to meet every need, not even close, I really get that.
But to be honest it’s not really meeting any of my needs that I can think of. What am I actually paying for? Torture. That’s what. The repeated picking of scabs, the repeated slicing open of old scars, and what for?
It is reducing me to misery. It reduces me to the most vulnerable place possible and when that happens I am incapacitated. I am frozen with terror and heartbreak and the deepest loneliness. It feels like a re-enactment of my childhood, over and over again.
That can’t be healthy. It doesn’t feel healthy.
I am such a capable adult. I am strong and resilient and intelligent and I have such capacity for love and happiness and laughter. I am independent by nature. (though that’s hard because of illnesses.) I am emotionally intelligent. I am a hopeful person, a ” cup half full” person, I am optimistic, I prefer to see the good things I have rather than the things that are bad.
Yet therapy…. ugh. It reduces me to the traumatised child. The disenpowered child, the disenfranchised child, the trapped child, the abandoned child, the abused child.
I carry all those parts with me. Every day. I know they are there. And I had hope that going to therapy would lessen the weight of that. I had hoped therapy would reach those child parts and we’d find healing for them. I truly believed in the work my therapist and I were doing. I was willing to really “go there” with the work. To plunge to the depths and really fix what’s wrong.
But I am not sure I can do that anymore. My life feels on hold while I am scrambling about on my hands and knees in the therapy trenches.
And I have lost faith and trust in Sienna. I am not convinced she’s capable of holding the process. And I have zero faith in any therapist doing it.
I am positive there are ones out there successfully working with developmental trauma, but I am just not willing to continue opening myself up to that level, only to be emotionally or literally abandoned by therapists who thought they could hack it but “oops, can’t”.
The cost to me is too great. And I am not willing to put myself through it anymore.
If Sienna can’t get her shit together with this rupture and this work, then that’s the end of therapy for me. There will be no more therapists.
My hope is that we can get past this rupture, that we can find a way forward. My hope is that Sienna will see the error of her ways/thinking and finally truly understand exactly why I need so much from her. That the way things are now is inadequate.
My disorganised attachment means that I can’t leave her right now, I love her. I will probably stay, until I finally give up any hope or we rupture one too many times and I flee for good.
I know that isn’t good. But that’s just how it is for now.
Therapy is causing me a lot of hurt. I know there’s a lot of repair work to be done- if it’s even possible! I feel despair and hopelessness at how far Sienna and I have fallen. I feel a sort of muted depression all the time now as I experience how our relationship is being conducted. I have little fight in me to even try to make my needs known. It all feels futile to even try.
I know this is really bad. I know, I know, I know! But I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know if it can be fixed. And like I said I can’t and won’t leave. Not until I know for sure there’s absolutely no hope.
So, in the meantime, I want to create a life I want. I want to focus on the happy stuff. I want to enpower myself. I want to take responsibility for my own happiness. I want to start getting my shit together. Therapy or no therapy.
Thoughts on the new blog idea?
Many thanks to Sunflowertreehouse for choosing me for the Liebster Award. 🙂
These awards are always a good way to discover new blogs I perhaps hadn’t seen before. I will nominate some of my own favourite blogs to read and pass on the good vibes!
HERE ARE THE RULES:
• Create a new post thanking the person who nominated you, provide a link to their blog.
• Include award graphic.
• Answer the questions provided.
• Make a new set of 10 questions for your nominees to answer.
• Nominate 10 recently followed bloggers and share your post with them so they see it.
My Questions that I have to answer are as follows:
1. Why did you start blogging?
I started blogging when I started Art Therapy a few years ago. I couldn’t find anything from a client’s perspective about what long term art therapy would be like, so I figured I’d start a blog about it. I quickly found that blogging really helped me process my therapy sessions and gave me space to vent and to express my true feelings and also track my progress.
2. What do you love most about your writing?
What do I love most? Hm…. I do love that I can describe my feelings in detail. I love writing about this journey which is both the best and worst thing I’ve done!
3. Describe the most interesting person you’ve ever met.
I honestly don’t know the answer to that. Most people fascinate me for different reasons.
4. What don’t you get enough credit for?
Sometimes, with certain family members they’ll think the worst of me and don’t give me credit for actually being a nice person!
5. What do you wish you could say?
I wish I could say ” I just want cuddles. All the time. Nothing else. Just cuddle me dammit… and bring me a hot chocolate.” My needs are simple hahaha!
6. Do you like pasta?
Hm… Yes it’s okay. Not my favourite thing in the world though.
7. If you could go to space, what kind of lunch would you pack?
A glitter sandwich! And a strawberry milkshake.
8. Do you prefer movies or TV shows?
Depends on my mood. There’s some really amazing tv shows out there on Netflix and Amazon especially. But sometimes settling down to a really good movie is just so good!
9. Is there a hobby you wish you would have either stuck with or picked up?
I wish I’d stuck with Ballet, I quit when I was 7 and went to gymnastics instead. I wish I’d stuck with horseriding too, but boys and alcohol happened.
10. Do you have any scars? From what?
I have a scar from having chickenpox as a child. I have a scar on my knee where I fell at school, I limped around for months after that fall! And I have very faint silvery self-harm scars. (the shame!)
Okay, now your Questions:
I nominate the following blogs for a Liebster Award
Okay, that’s only 5, I’m sure there’s more I could recommend but I’m tired!
I’m feeling really unwell. I think I have a bug.
I felt awful yesterday but today I woke up feeling much better and after a sleep I’ve woken up feeling pretty nauseous and crappy.
I’m trying to work out if I make my session in 3 hours time. I’m trying to work out a way to drag myself there because I need it. I need her!
I can’t work out the bigger need. To stay home and rest or drag myself in to satisfy the young alters who desperately need contact.
I think I know I should stay home. But the idea feels so awful.
Fuck sake. Stupid body. Stupid winter bugs. Stupid disorganised attachment shit that drives me out my sick bed to go to an appointment.
Inner child tantrum happening right now.
At Christmas time, I never give my therapist a card or a gift.
It feels mean-spirited to say that. By nature, I am a gift-giver. And I take a lot of joy in finding the right present for someone and then wrapping it up all pretty.
And there have been plenty of times I’ve wanted to buy presents for my therapist as an expression of my gratitude to her for all the things she says and does to help me and to acknowledge all the things she does that are over an above her job description.
It would almost be easier to give in to my impulse to write a heartfelt card or a thoughtful gift. It’s nice to be nice after-all, right?
So why do I stop myself?
There’s no easy or short answer to that. I’m not sure why I stop myself. But something does stops me.
In the first year of working with her, I chose not to because I didn’t want to be too attached to her or overstep the professional relationship boundaries. I didn’t want to make her something more than what she was to me – a therapist, a working professional. Not buying her a gift or a card was an attempt at staying distanced from her, or at least it was one of the many reasons.
In the second year, I still felt the same, that I didn’t need to buy her something, or give a card. She didn’t give me a card either. She was keeping that boundary for herself so why shouldn’t I? It felt relieving to not have to bother. It felt good to keep Christmas and the complexities of gift-giving out of the therapeutic space.
Not giving a gift or card in those years has always been a considered and well thought out decision, it has never been done out of malice or selfishness. It’s been hard not to indulge in the whole xmas circus of cards and gift-giving.
This year, our third Christmas together, my feelings haven’t changed on it much.
Except, I did buy her a gift this year. But I haven’t decided whether I want to give her it yet.
What motivated me to buy a gift this year? I don’t know. I just felt a strong impulse to do it. A strong need to give her something heartfelt and thoughtful, a need to show my love and gratitude.
As I write this, I realise that it’s perhaps no surprise that I have this strong need this year, after a particularly horrible and extremely complex rupture that very nearly was the end of us. Perhaps this need to give her something of myself, or to surround her in love is actually a symbol of my unrest, my sadness at what’s happened to us, my insecurity of the status of our relationship and need to feel close to her again, to reunite.
The past two years I felt very secure with her, very confident and secure that she was a stable and consistent part of my life and I suppose I didn’t feel I needed to buy her gifts to keep her or win her love. So, maybe my impulse to buy a gift this year really is a sign of my fears and anxiety at the status of our relationship?
And that makes me feel like I don’t want to give her a gift. Not for that reason. Suddenly my heartfelt gift isn’t some selfless act of generosity but a token of despair.
So, with flipping between this need to give her something and not wanting to give her something, I thought it best to actually at least have something bought and ready should I decided to not care about the meaning behind it and just give in to my child-like needs to “ give mummy a present”.
What I bought her was a beautifully illustrated book called The Star Tree.
Stars and Trees are somewhat symbolic in our relationship. Often this year, as a form of showing connection and reassurance, Sienna and I would often send star emojis in texts. It was a lovely little way to reassure me that we are under the same sky, that she’s still there.
And by co-incidence, the child in the book is called Mia, which is also the name of one of my young teen alters.
And trees, well, there’s woods outside her office and I spend a lot of time watching the trees, watching the seasons pass. We both love the view and often talk about it. In fact, Sienna said that until I mentioned how lovely the trees were, she’d taken them for granted a bit and had never really noticed them until I came along but now she does. I like that I gave her something. Something beautiful and living and changing, something she could notice of and take joy from.
So, in light of trees being a thing in our therapy, I bought a keyring with a silver tree. It’s really pretty.
As of right now, I am still undecided. I will give her the gifts some-day, but I’m not sure I’ll give her them for Christmas. Perhaps I should wait until I am giving it from a more secure place. Until a time that I am giving it with light in my heart and not fear.
I wish a gift was just a gift!
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