Let’s get the really painful bit out of the way first… Last week when I arrived at my group for anxious people therapy session thingie, the animator who keeps cutting me off asked to talk to me alone. My insides were in knots… I felt like a little kid who gets called to the principal’s office. I figured she would scold me for talking too much and not let others speak or something.
It was exactly that… but with an unexpected twist; one that was both more embarrassing and painful than what I was expecting and at the same time, one that was a lot easier for me to deal with.
The problem isn’t that I talk too much. The problem is that I can be almost brutally open when it comes to talking about the things that didn’t kill me! Like suicide for example. I mentioned my suicidal ideation and hospitalization and I was emotional when I mentioned it… and there were a few people in the group who were totally shaken by that. They couldn’t concentrate on the session any more after I spoke. And they mentioned it in the little form we fill out every week.
I’m hurting people with my open, raw honesty. Wow. That’s a lot to take in. If I hurt people by writing this blog, they can just stop reading my blog. I can say whatever I want on here. But in that room, I need to be mindful of others; simply because that is the human and decent thing to do and what I hope others would do for me. We’re all different and some of us are more fragile and this group needs to be a positive experience for all.
This revelation hurt me more than if it had just been the animator who didn’t like me. But it also made it so much easier to accommodate the request. Doing it for someone who dislikes me would have been frustrating, doing it to help people feel more comfortable in a difficult situation is easy. Now I am EAGER to accommodate the request.
It won’t be easy though… I’ll just have to try to write in here more often to vent and empty my bag and be able to feel less needy to unburden myself on the group.
I’m a walking paradox though… As much as I can be brutally open and honest, I can also be very careful about what I say out of fear of ridicule, rejection or judgement. Writing here helps me sort things out… This is a stepping stone for me. From constant filtering to only filtering when it is needed, like in group, and developing the ability to tell when I must filter and when it’s ok to be me in bold print and full Technicolor!
I’ve decided I need to stop censoring myself out of fear of rejection. So long as I am not doing anything wrong, I need to stop apologizing for who I am and accept that some people will love me and some will hate me and some will be utterly indifferent. I need to give myself permission to be myself, and accept that people will walk away, without getting a huge heartbreak every time. Most of all, I need to be kind to myself and realize this change will take time and I will get my heart broken a few more times before I have reached my goal… maybe I will always get heartbroken when people walk away… maybe that is another thing I need to accept.
After meeting someone who has a service dog for anxiety, I am seriously considering getting a dog. I don’t necessarily need a service dog, any calm and affectionate dog would be good enough for me. My doctor could write me a “prescription” for the animal so that my landlord wouldn’t be able to prevent us from keeping the dog. The dog would help with anxiety and it would promote physical fitness for me because I would have to walk it every day. I would get the dog from a shelter and aim for an adult dog, not a puppy. I could pay for obedience training and it would all cost much less than acquiring a certified service dog (I am told they are about CAD$6000.).
I’m also quite terrified of getting a dog because I have never owned a dog and some people make them sound like extraordinarily high maintenance pets. I want a dog to help alleviate anxiety, not to cause more of it. *sigh*
Another option is an affectionate cat. But that means a purebred cat and I am scared of spending CAD$1500 on a Siberian Cat for example and it not being affectionate. I already have an assho… I mean feline overlord who blesses me with his love when and only when he sees fit… and generally in the middle of the night.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! I hate making difficult decisions!!!
I’ve started wearing makeup again; feel really good. I still feel ugly, but at least I am colourfully ugly! Oh and I also look like a snake that swallowed a bowling ball. My abdominal muscles have gone on strike. It makes me feel grotesque and repulsive. And all my fucking panties now roll and tuck themselves under my belly, into my c-section scar. Fucking sexy.
I’m tired of being a mutant on whom deodorant doesn’t work properly. And the rare few that do work are the ones who leave white residue on everything! *kicks furniture*
I am an old sagging sack of tits and intestines!
OK… that was harsh… and unfair… Hello, my name is Self-Loathing and I suffer from Annie.
I cannot post this entry without telling you how Vin and I watched Kylo Batman V/S Superbleh and it was the most convoluted mess of hallucinations, flashback and set up. How the first hour is beyond boring and pointless. How all Jason Momoa fans got all in a flutter because he is Aquaman in the movie… for 15 seconds… and has no lines. How Batbitch gets super pissed at Superemo for his employees dying but goes around branding people like it’s the sensible thing to do. How all Batfleck needs to become bros for life with Superduper is to find out their mommies had the same name. I am so done with DC. FUCK YEAH, MARVEL!