In preparation for my upcoming therapy appointment, I’ve been thinking about things I’d like to work on and, ultimately, improve. A comment I made either on my blog or on someone else’s (who can keep track?) about how I don’t know how to be normal has got me thinking…what else can’t I do?
First, I don’t feel emotions like other people do. I tend to either feel them too deeply or not at all. And if I feel them too deeply and they become painful then Mr. McStuffins shows up and stuffs them all…well…someplace…I actually have no idea where it all gets stuffed. Someday some well-meaning therapist is going to find the key to that “someplace” and things will likely get very, very messy. I’d like to work on opening that someplace slowly rather than all at once.
I can’t drink Donald Duck Pineapple Orange Juice, look at an old-fashioned billboard, or a box of broken crayons without feeling…well…weird (in fact, just typing those words did it). There’s a deeply buried memory associated with all of these things that brings up feelings that seem to be uncomfortable, but my psyche doesn’t let me really “see” what it is. Usually we suppress things that are too painful to remember. I hope this isn’t one of those times. If it is? Let’s approach that slowly as well okay?
I don’t like myself. I try…but that damned voice in my head keeps repeating the shit that was put there long ago. THIS is my biggest challenge – to get to the root of all of that and figure out how to stop the message. But shit is messy yo. And it stinks. So I don’t expect this part to be easy but it’s got to happen because, at the end of the day, shit is also toxic if not handled properly. However, if handled properly, it can be used to feed and nurture and make beautiful things grow.
I don’t know how to let go. Again I try…I really, really do. So much that I had the words tattooed on my body. All that did was give me a bad ass looking ankle, which is fine, but not exactly what I was going for if you know what I mean. I need to learn how to keep the good stuff from a situation – you know, all the learning and positive spins – and let the hell go of all the bad stuff. Just, you know, release that shit into the Universe to be dealt with accordingly. Yeah…I’m gonna need to work on that.
I don’t know how to forgive. Okay wait, let me clarify. I have worked very hard to learn to forgive others and I’m doing a fantastic job and it feels amazing. I love looking a people with love and understanding rather than anger and resentment. Believe me when I say that it makes a big ass difference in my gut to not carry that shit around anymore. Where I fail is when it comes to forgiving myself. I’m not very good at that. Down deep I don’t feel worthy of my own forgiveness and even I know that’s fucked up to the max.
Speaking of “not worthy”, I don’t know how to effectively administer self-care. Sure, I talk a really good game but when it comes execution? I suck. Big suck. Mammoth suck. I’m not even sure I really understand what the fuck it means to practice self-care! I know what it’s not! It’s not mani-pedis or chocolate or a new blouse. Those things are nice but they’re temporary. I may not know what it is exactly, but I know I need it and I know I need someone to take me by the hand and introduce me to it.
“Sherry, this is self-care. It’s here to help you heal in a healthy and balanced way. It’s good for you and should become part of your life.” (Said using tones like you’d use when talking to a frightened four-year old.)
“Self-care, this is Sherry. Chick is all kinds of fucked up and needs you to slap her upside the head from time to time to get her attention. But yo, she’s a quick study so it shouldn’t take her long to recognize you.” (Said in tones like you’d use talking to 50 Cent.)
The more I think about it, the more I think I should just email the link to my blog to my therapist so he can read and understand and save us both a hell of a lot of time and money. Okay…save ME a lot of money.
But I don’t want to risk sending him screaming into the night.