Choosing to be healthy; now there’s a thought.

I feel that I haven’t even had the mental space to think that thought since, I don’t know, maybe June? Flashbacks, job anxiety, and most of all ruptures with E have kept me on pins and needles for months.

During that time, therapy has often seemed a source of anxiety, rather than a support. I often repeated a painful routine: I’d go to therapy on Monday, leave feeling I wasn’t connected to E the way I wanted to be, or that she didn’t get what I was experiencing, or that I was wrong to be stuck on the same old things. I’d spend the next several days obsessing over this, maybe texting E, maybe trying not to text her, battling with my self-loathing and whatever else came up. Over the course of the week, I would gradually settle down again (some weeks better than others), but the following Monday, the cycle would start up again. I felt very depressed and very discouraged.

At my wit’s end, I sent her several of my posts last week about how terrible I felt about our unsteady connection, and she responded warmly. Such a relief, not just in that moment, but also in last Monday’s therapy session. E had clearly heard my fears and my need to feel she was right there with me. She didn’t judge me for my childishness or my neediness. Instead, she helped me design and create a comforting recording to my depressed self.

It’s the first time in literally months that I left therapy feeling stable and soothed. Such a relief. I can’t even find the words to tell you what a relief it was.

And now it’s Saturday. There’s even some sun outside today. I have a bit of energy. I have used my recording this week, but I have also drawn on the comfort of knowing that E cares and is on my side. Though I’m not entirely out of that damn swamp, I also haven’t had the sense that I’m on the edge of drowning.

Having my head up out of the muck for several days in a row means I can think more clearly. Thinking more clearly means I can make better choices for myself. For me, better choices means getting up out of bed right away rather than lying there in a dismal lethargy, feeling pathetic. It means I get up, practice a little (slow) yoga, meditate, eat a healthy breakfast. I choose two or three goals for the day. Today’s are to do my laundry, find my winter sweaters in the attic, and make a lasagna to freeze for my friend who is having a mastectomy. I also resolve to rest when I need it, get outside in the sun, and not berate myself because I have nothing important to complain about, compared to having a mastectomy, a double mastectomy at that. I’ll do my best to be kind and gentle to myself. May you all do the same.