I haven’t seen my therapist in about 3 and a half months now. I’m not saying that as either good or bad, simply a fact. Some days I miss her terribly, is that weird? Does it get any less weird if I tell you it’s because after 6 years working with her I finally worked up the courage to approach our sessions without a filter? Sometimes I’m slow to warm up – most times.
Some days it’s still harder than others to be unfiltered, myself. I can’t tell you how grateful I am, though, that part of the reason I haven’t seen my therapist in about 3 and a half months is that I’m finding myself leaning further and further into bridging the gap, removing the filter, regardless of the situation, mood, or audience. We had spent the last two years talking about safety nets and I’m finally ready to remove mine.
Turning Corners
This morning the first words out of my son’s mouth when his eyes shot open after a solid 8 minutes of “Bud, you need to get up now!”, coming at increasing volumes were “I hate everything”.
When “why” came out of my mouth instead of “that’s not how you should start a day”, I realized I was turning a corner and maybe I was just lucky enough that my need to push my insistence on positive thinking, out of fear that the negative will hold us back –
maybe I’m lucky enough that it got stuck on the turn and won’t be following me into the next step.
Last week, it might have been as I was fighting the worst hangover of my life, in two years, but at the same time the very best hangover I’ve ever had because some people just have the power to make even the worst days shine a little brighter –
During my who let me have 4 margaritas and then start mouthing off to the Karen staring me down from the table next to me just because I got louder and louder, more and more excited with each one level of hangover,
or at least I think it was then because some people have the power to make days blend together and time seem irrelevant as long as it’s time spent with them,
I was told I wasn’t allowed to tightrope between cliffs, mountains.
Sure, I brought it up. “Guess what I’ll never be able to do” – guess what I’ll never let you do.
Call it a turning point because when I silently acknowledged to myself that I don’t have to get upset just because someone is telling me I can’t do something, something I just said I’d never be able to do anyways, I don’t have to now dedicate the next ten years to learning how to tightrope walk just so I can stubbornly prove that
yes, I will in fact walk my ass right across a god damn ravine whenever I damn well please –
it felt like a turning point.
I think back to 15 and the stereotypical fear of clowns but my intrigue with darkness and fear that would arguably override it and pull me into the behind-the-scenes portion of the haunted house.
I haven’t gone back since they stuck me in the clown room and then forgot to get me at the end of the night when the haunt was over.
I think back to 15, wondering if I was going to get in trouble for leaving my spot, wondering if I was going to be able to figure out how to get out of the clown room when I felt like my breathing was coming at a pace that would use up all of the oxygen before I could take a step.
I’m not afraid of clowns anymore but there were tears streaming down my face as I climbed into my dad’s van that night, I was still struggling to catch my breath and I don’t think I ever explained what happened but I’ll call it a turning point – I didn’t know the empowerment that facing a fear head-on could bring.
The thing is I’m turning corners, every day, rapidly, and it feels like a maze.
Sometimes I feel like I’m still stuck trying to find my way out of the haunt, blacked-out walls on a cloudy night with no stars to offer the help of their light.
I know once I have a moment for rest, a second to pause and stop turning, I’ll regain my bearings and be thankful for the progress but right now,
right now I’ve slept away two of the last three days and I still don’t feel rested, I still feel disoriented.
I know I’ll reach a point where I see just how worthwhile all of this is but right now, let’s call it turning a corner that I’m willing to wait for that point.
Much love, until next time.
Madeline May I... 