Getting Back Into It

The hardest part of writing is knowing where or how to start.

This has been one of my biggest challenges. Not only in writing new blog posts, but business emails, text messages, and social media updates as well.

It’s not that I don’t know what I need to say, or what I want to write about. It’s in organizing those thoughts in a coherent and logical way, and then finding the words to begin.

I’ve been having a particularly hard time with this lately, which is why I haven’t posted here in a while. My brain power has been going toward business emails, proposals and calls, which has taken a lot out of me mentally. One day when I can afford it, I’m going to hire someone to do those aspects that I struggle with. But for now, I’m on my own.

So, yes, I have two new clients (thanks to my therapist), and two more potential ones lined up. All of them psychologists—my ideal market. It’s been great to have work again and that sense of purpose.

I also got an unexpected cash deposit from an old pension fund I was a member of in my first “real” job many moons ago. It’s a long story, but I’m glad I got it now and not when I was supposed to earlier in my life. I would have wasted it back then as a lot of us do when we’re younger. It came at the perfect time and was very much needed.

Therapy has been going well. My therapist came back the day after I wrote my previous post, just like she said she would. She’s technically still on maternity leave, but working a little here and there. The first day back I got to go to the practice. I was anxious and wary. The first while I couldn’t even look at her, and didn’t want to take my mask off, even though that’s the first thing I usually do when sitting down (I hate wearing those things—but they’re great for hiding behind). The thought of taking my mask off felt like I would be getting undressed in front of her. Eventually, I started feeling more comfortable and my walls slowly came down.

It was a good session, and I’m glad I got to see her in person the first time back. She had come in about 5 minutes after I had arrived, and left to go home after me. So I was the only person she saw that day. I think that fact helped me feel closer to her again, and like I do actually matter to her. Since then we’ve had two in-person sessions, and the rest has been online.

There have been a few frustrating and sad things happening in my life too, but I’m just grateful that some good has come as well.

The past three days have been difficult. I think I pushed myself too far, and over-did things. I tend to jump into work in an almost manic way. Not giving myself much time to rest or relax. So I burn out. There was also so many other things to do and places to go. A lot of anxiety. It’s only now settling down.

My startle response and sensory system had gone haywire the day before yesterday. The smallest thing made me jump. Even those things that are a regular occurrence, such as the fridge making it’s “settling” sound every now and then. Everything was too bright, too loud, too rough or too soft. I’d hear the lady next door talking to her daughter, or the man speaking on his phone, and I’d be both irritated and fearful (every slight voice level above what it’s been and I felt the same fear at the anticipation of a fight).

So now I’m in a mental place where I can’t do any of my work. Even forming words to reply to voice notes or talk to anyone out loud just isn’t happening. Spent most of yesterday sleeping. I’m in shutdown mode. Good thing it’s weekend so I have an excuse to stay in bed and not do anything.

I need to learn how to balance things better, and protect myself from reaching this point.

Maybe I’ll get there one day.

We Deserve, But Are Not Owed

“The world doesn’t owe you anything”.

That simple sentence (and variations of it) has always had a way of instilling a sense of profound guilt within me.

When I say those words to myself, it’s meant as a punishment of sorts. A way of saying “so just get over it” or that I don’t deserve this thing or anything else for that matter. This is what I did in a previous post.

One of my readers commented on that post saying that “we do have the right to expect the therapist to still be a therapist” in response to my thoughts regarding the place I find myself in with my therapist. Those words were what made me explore this topic deeper. Explore my feelings. Because when I read those words, I felt a mixture of confusion, curiosity, and relief.

I realized what the problem was.

The right to, deserved, owed. I had lumped all those words together as meaning the same thing, even though the knowledge that they meant different things was buried somewhere in the recesses of my mind.

Whenever I hear the word “deserve”, I hear “owed”. But that’s not what it actually means. I particularly liked this definition that I found of the word. “Be worthy of”.

Deserve love doesn’t mean owed love. Having a right to something doesn’t mean we’re owed that thing. It simply means that as a human being we have a right to these things for simply existing. Just like clean drinking water is a basic human right.

But on the other side of the coin, just because we have a right to something, doesn’t mean we’re going to get it, either. And that’s the part that feels awful sometimes.

I’m seeing my therapist at her practice tomorrow. I stopped counting a while ago, but it’s about three months since I’ve last seen her or heard her voice. For some reason, I’m terrified. A big part of me wants to cancel, or just not show up. But knowing myself, I probably won’t. I can feel so many emotions simmering beneath the surface, just out of reach. I guess a part of me is afraid of what will happen tomorrow. What I’ll say, feel, or do. Right now, I can’t bear the thought of even looking at her. Guess I won’t be sleeping much tonight. Must remember my anxiety meds!

One of the biggest issues during this time has been the feeling of not deserving her or her time. I don’t get to be a part of her life. She’s so far away from me. Now that she has her baby, those feelings have only intensified. I’m thankful though that the past week or two I didn’t have any feelings toward her. I just realized something as I wrote that last sentence… I think part of my fear about tomorrow is reconnecting with her. With those emotions.

I wish I could believe that I do deserve her support and time. And while I did for a brief few minutes before I started this post, I’ve fallen right back down to feeling unworthy. Emotions suck. Just when I think I’ve made progress with eliminating all those past messages of being stupid, unlovable, and a waste of space, it all comes rushing back. It’s so frustrating.

On another note, but still related to this post… I’ve started a Ko-Fi page. I had something similar a while ago which I linked to on my blog, but removed it because I felt guilty even having it there. Undeserving. So starting this one up has been very uncomfortable for me, but it’s also something that I wanted to do. “Feel the fear and do it anyway”, as the saying goes. If you’d like to, are curious, or can support me, I’ll post the link below. I’m still getting started with it, so if you have any ideas of what you’d like to see, or have something that I can do for you, please let me know.

Anyway, I’m off to watch Wonder Woman and WW1984 (my obsession films) to try to stop myself from thinking about tomorrow.

I hope I come out of it in one piece.

My Ko-Fi page:

https://ko-fi.com/journeytowardhealing

I Am (Alive)

I don’t want to be alive in a world where our sexuality, gender, religion, race, disABILITY, is a source of division rather than curiosity and acceptance.

Where wars are never ending and threats of war constantly hang over us like the clouds in a dark sky.

I don’t want to be alive in a world where fear and uncertainty, hatred and greed, replace security, belonging, and love.

Where instead of embracing and working in harmony with the natural world, we destroy and turn against it, wondering “why?” when it turns on us too.

But I am.

I am alive in that world.

And it’s hard.

It’s hard to be alive in a world where little makes sense. Where the beauty of a sunset illuminating and colouring the landscape below it, is just as real as the blood of innocent lives tragically taken.

This world is also filled with beauty and grace. With hope and joy.

Focus on this good, they say.

But the good and the bad are equally real.

You can’t have one without the other. That’s the world we live in.

We’re alive. And we have to play our part in helping to make a difference. To being a beacon of light among an endless sea of darkness and despair.

We’re all human. We ultimately all come from the same place.

The difference is what each of us do with our humanity.