The Therapy.

The blog is the therapy.  I knew it, but I didn’t truly realize it until now.

What I mean is, when I can’t talk to someone else – not completely – and when I can’t talk to my therapist, I come here.

Right now I’m not talking to my therapist because I’m fine.  I don’t need therapy.

Funny thought.

So here I am again, 2 days in a row after months unwritten.  The topic today? Me writhing in my own shit once again.  I made my bed; now I have to lay in it.

Only…This bed yells at me, tells me something is wrong in me, that I have hate in my voice when I speak (perhaps I should speak with Hillary Clinton).  Tells me I have no right to speak to my doctor on my own. I speak back in a confident voice that is not my own. And once the call ends, I break down. I break down for hours without end….because the tears seem to come from that endless well that I’ve spoken of for so many years.  Yet I’ve never reached the bottom.  When will I find it?

That bed.  I’ve made that bed.  And now I’m laying in it.  And it wreaks.  It crawls.  The bugs are biting me in unseen places.

I come home and realize: I never should have done this.  I knew it could never work.  He was never a changed person.   Did it happen?  I don’t know.  But I can’t handle him.  I was healthier without him.  Undeniably.  Yes? No?  So many doubts.

The only thing undeniable right now is the love my Golden Retriever has for me right now. That….Now, that, is something I can always count on.  For now, that will be enough to satisfy this troubled soul.


Inexplicable Explanation


These past few weeks, I’ve been finding myself becoming increasingly more of a sap over small things.  Or suddenly struck with fear or dread over something I see on the television.  I watched Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron. I am a horse lover, so I like the movie, but I cried the entire time.  That’s not normal.  I cried when a man was kind and caring to a woman on a television show.  And I start thinking, “Wow, I’m emotional with no explanation.” But there’s always an explanation.  I just have yet to find it.  Or want to find it.  Normally it’s the latter.
I had not been putting much thought into it until it refused to be ignored the past two days – over the weekend, when I was laid up in bed from a herniated disc in my neck.  I’m going on month 5 of this, and after a long week, I had planned on having no plans over the weekend.  Apparently, my emotional self, and all the other “selves” that come with that, took advantage of this time.
Perhaps I have been avoiding them.  Even neglecting them.  Or perhaps I’ve downright abandoned them lately.  I think I’ve had to.  I’ve had stress lately…I think I’ve lost time once or twice.  My memory has been downright shitty.
And now I’m crying at animated movies narrated by Matt Damon from 2002.
How the fuck did I get myself here?
I keep thinking, “Yeah, you’re good…You don’t need therapy anymore.  Besides, what else can she help you with? Clearly, you’ve made your decision.  Clearly, you think you can handle having contact with your father while still living near your mother who works long distance for your father.  Clearly, you think that’s the only way forward right now, so clearly, that’s the way forward.”
Have you ever gotten yourself so screwed over in a position….Financially, mentally, emotionally….That you just can’t find a way out?
That’s where I am.  It will be years before I dig myself out of the hole I’m in.  I’m working on it.  I’m trying to explore possible escape routes.  But it appears I will have to suck it up and take the long way out.
I sure hope my life is worth it. Good thing I’ve got this new semicolon tattoo on my ankle to keep me sane.

Committing to the long road

I feel humbled this evening with my realization – even if it’s temporary – that I am glad I am alive. It has been years since I’ve felt that sort of fulfillment and purpose in my life, and I’m noticing that I feel it now.

So why are tears streaming down my face as I write this?

Perhaps because I’ve just committed myself to taking the long road; the one with potholes and blind curves and opposing traffic. I’ve given up on the easy way out.

So many holes in my life left to be filled, but something about this day, maybe a song, a conversation with my mother, working with my horses, my job, my coworkers, my session with my therapist..Something has changed, even if for just a minute or two.

I’ve been sitting here for several minutes feeling so filled with countless feelings. Gratitude, happiness, excitement mixed with grief, fear, and hopelessness. In what world can such opposing forces coexist? In me, I suppose. And what a confusing union it is.

For the very few that may follow this blog, I apologize for my absence. I’m working on getting my life together. I have not figured out yet where this blog fits in with that, if it does at all. If I decide to continue blogging, I will come back and give a synopsis of where things are for me at the moment. This is merely an off the cuff, spur of the moment snapshot.


Recently, my therapist essentially challenged me to go out and take some pictures, because I had mentioned in the past that I would occasionally use photography as an outlet of expression, or at least as a good distractor.  The challenge, although she may not think of it like this, is that she wanted me to bring in a photo next time.  It was hard to find the motivation to go out and do this, but I did, and I thought I’d post a few of the pictures I took.  We have some beautiful hiking trails in this area, so I went on a short hike with my camera.

I haven’t decided which one (or ones) I’m going to bring in yet, but I was thinking about one of the first two.  It’s going to freak me out showing her any pictures I’ve taken, even though I know she won’t judge me or my pictures.  Hopefully all will go smoothly, though.