I see my therapist again today. I’m nervous. Last time I left him with my letters to my abuser and my little girl self. There were things in those letters that only one other person on the planet knows (the hubs) besides me. My grown up self knows that the things I wrote about really aren’t that big of a deal. My little girl self still carries the shame and humiliation of those things. She still owns them.
She’s afraid and embarrassed to face her therapist today. Fortunately my grown up self is up to the challenge and almost eager to move this process forward.
Over the last two weeks, while I haven’t done any actual homework, I’ve thought about this process on a daily basis. I’ve asked myself, “What the fuck are you doing?” many times. I’ve wondered, for the millionth time, if I’m making too much out of a series of events that happened over 40 years ago. I’ve considered giving up and just stuffing it all back down and
walking running away. I’ve avoided writing letters to my mom and my grandmother because, in my grown up head, I’ve forgiven them. I haven’t really checked in with my little girl self to see if she’s forgiven them…
That’s how I know I have to keep going. If I’m going through all of this thought process and it feels this uncomfortable…then I must need to face this part of my life and work through it. Accept it. Surrender.
There are also some interesting things happening to me. They are subtle, almost whispers, and if I’m not paying attention I might miss them. But they’re there…and I’m noticing them.
For instance, I’ve always hated my name. I don’t know why…just the way it is. It’s not that common and, as I got older, the “e” sound at the end sounded too juvenile to me. All of a sudden however, I love the sound of my name. I noticed it the other day when someone called me by name and I was filled with – oh hell I don’t know – joy? Whatever it was it felt good.
Then there’s my face. Never liked that either. Long story. Now I’m not minding it so much. I’m looking at myself with a little more kindness these days. I’m actually thinking of myself with a little more kindness these days. Maybe it’s the therapy or maybe it’s the bump in my meds or maybe both. Whatever it is I hope it continues to improve. It feels good.
Now on the not so good side of things. I’ve noticed that for the last three or four days, every time I start thinking about this appointment I want to eat. Not just eat a meal…I mean EAT…nom nom nom eat. Comfort eat. Junk food eat. Chocolate eat. No cravings for booze…just food. Cheeseburgers and French fries and cake. Shit I NEVER eat. And chocolate – oh for the love of God who in the world decided that Valentine’s Day was a good time to tackle these issues – fucking chocolate EVERYWHERE!
For the first time however, I’m actually noticing that I’m turning to food for comfort. I’m uncomfortable with what might happen in this appointment today and I’m looking for food to make me feel better about it and help me cope with the feelings I may have to face. It’s an actual feeling in my stomach…one I’m mistaking for hunger but couldn’t be farther from it. I’ve been wondering why I’ve been so hungry, why is it that all I want to do is eat and now I think I’ve figured it out. So while this sucks because I don’t have a flipping clue what the hell I’m supposed to do about it (except maybe break out my old sober toolbox) and even though it’s uncomfortable, I feel good because it means I’m more mindful of my feelings and my reactions.
So for now I’m going to roll with all of this. I’m going to keep going down this path and facing this with tenacity and grit but also for with love and kindness which is new for me. Usually I find an obstacle, barrel through it head first and just obliterate it to smithereens never stopping to see what damage I’m doing to myself – just hell bent on getting through the problem and moving forward.
Um…so how’s that workin’ for ya?
Time to take a softer approach to my issues. Maybe ride a cloud or two along the way to freedom peace of mind.