My therapist Lee, is on vacation. I didn’t I think it would bother me really not seeing as I have so many walls up and don’t share a whole lot of my feelings in my sessions. I tend to speak about mundane things and not dig too deep. I mean, I do talk about my mom and my grief and how hard it is to have my son gone. I keep my feelings safely bottled up behind walls because of what happened before. You may read that about that here:
I sometimes feel like the floodwaters of emotions have risen too high inside me and the dam will break soon. So many feelings have been percolating in her absence. I must have felt some degree of safety in just sitting in her bland and non-descript office.
I found myself walking through WalMart mindlessly going up and down each aisle looking for something to buy, even though I didn’t really need anything. Just to I’m not sure, maybe get my mind off of my feelings? Like that one magic item could bring me a piece of transient joy, if only for a moment. But search as I may it remained elusive. It felt like I was shopping for comfort. As if there is a hole in me, a friend I have lost who was dear to me has left a space I cannot fill and I was trying to fill it with a purchase? How strange yet true.
Well just slip me in a straight jacket now. So many losses makes me want to insulate more! So I can’t get close to anybody, then I can’t lose anyone anymore.
The last time I can remember feeling happy I was six years old. First grade. It was my second year of school following kindergarten and I was so excited to learn.
Photo: me first grade
Things in my home began declining from then on. Other than short periods of calm or transient periods of fun, I haven’t been truly happy since around this age. It feels like it’s been a three-ring-shit show ever since.
All I know is, deep down inside of me there is a burgeoning sense of change. Of self-love. It is never too late to start over. It’s never too late to be the person you could have been. It’s not too late for me!!!