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?