2002-12-30 - 10:36 a.m.
True grieving, she says.
Ever been in therapy? I have, on and off, since I was 9. More off, lately, because it has become some kind of goal of mine to stay the hell out of therapy ... I'm a grown up now, damnit, I should be able to deal with my own problems. Liar. Or rather, denial. It is a basic need of mine to talk to people about my problems, that's how I process. I often find that, going into the session, I will insist I don't know what's happening or how to fix it or nothing is wrong at all ... and by the end of the session I realize that I knew it all along. The Universe likes to embarass me that way, therapists especially like it. Therapists are the Universe looking at itself and laughing.
A friend of mine is a therapist by trade and I was telling her how my Christmas went. Not well. Christmas Eve was the beginning of a ... going on week-long bout of depression. For the life of me I could not rise above this sad, listless, empty feeling. I practically OD'ed on retail therapy: bought myself some RIDICULOUSLY sexy boots, and my best friend bought me a bunch of clothes. I listened to music and sang as loud as I could (go ahead, try to be depressed to "Push Wood" by Hebro, I double-dog dare you). I ate comfort food (mmm, Taco Bell, orange meat is good for the soul). I watched Sherlock Holmes and drank Chai tea. All these things have I done and each in their turn should have elevated me from the depths of sadness. Yet, success was not to be mine. Smiles would perch on my lips for a moment but make no permanent home. (ok, what the hell was that?)
Anyway, she says that it's probably just true grieving. Something I need to go through as part of the process. Yeah, ok, I kinda knew that.
I explain how I figured out that all I really needed was to be held by someone who loves me. Someone with whom I could let go, open up, and not be afraid. But there is no one in my life like that right now. I gave that up. My ex-husband may have been a twit but he was safe, I knew he would love me for a long time. And, yeah, I know that after I was done being vulnerable to him I would feel that same frustration of needing to be vulnerable to someone you don't respect and nothing would have changed. I know that.
I explained how my lover probably would have held me if I had asked. But at that moment, and in the following ones, I needed love ... and that's not what we're about. I know that, which is why I didn't ask.
So, here I am, truly grieving. I am sure that this will pass and I will find myself fully enjoying things again. For the time being it seems to be a great motivator, I am really determined to work on things as they arise because I want to get past this. I sat and honored this feeling Christmas night, now it's time to move on. You know?
Take care,
M
