Turns out, I wasn’t doing that well with the SexyPants stuff. Over the last few weeks I have been obsessing over him and the loss of the relationship as it were and what the fuck is it now? He was inhabiting nearly 100% of my brainspace and that just wasn’t/isn’t acceptable.
Two weeks ago I made an emergency call to get a therapy appointment. Guys, I couldn’t stop crying and it happened that I was in the office, so I reached out to my company’s mental health peeps (some system that they have for getting employees help with their issues, thank goodness!) and got an appointment for that evening at a place pretty close to my office. And then I hung in there until after work.
Once the day was over and I finally got to this therapist, I was pretty much all cried out. And no, I didn’t cry in front of anyone at the office; I just kept excusing myself to go walk outside or to the bathroom, etc. I just could NOT deal.
[Side note: yes, it was that time of the month, in case you wondered. And yes, I do tend to get extremely emotional and I recognize that]
But I just started talking and talking and the therapist was nice and let me talk. And the more I talked, the more ridiculous I felt because (1) I never even cried or came close to shedding a tear, and (2) everything I said didn’t seem like such an emergency anymore, and (3) it all sounded so cliché and kind of insignificant in the grand scheme of things. I mean look, I’m not being abused and I’m not even IN any kind of committed relationship with SP, so why the hell did I need an emergency appointment?
Still, the therapist was cool and treated my feelings as very valid. She was thoughtful and even let me talk for 2 ½ hours (!). She said that the first appointment is always long because she wants to get to know her clients and their issues. It felt good to tell my story to her, even if we didn’t come to any kind of lesson, conclusion or anything. She recommended a couple of books about women and boundaries, including Why Men Love Bitches, which I’ve read a couple of times, but it still seems to offer some great insight – not perfect by any means, but common sense stuff. Bottom line, I’m not really as strong as I may appear. I’ve been faltering. I need some strength.
Then something kind of weird happened earlier this week, and I don’t know if it’s going to last or not. My attitude changed. Suddenly, it was as if I woke up from a dream and decided that I wasn’t going to worry about him anymore. I wasn’t going to wonder what he’s up to and who he’s with and if he’s out carousing or generally being a dog. Suddenly, I just didn’t care. Suddenly, I felt free and open to just be alone. Just me. My own space.
It felt really good and comforting. I spent a lot of time by myself this week and it felt soft and warm. It also felt kind of hermit-y, but I don’t really care. It felt fine. I didn’t feel like I was missing out or lonely or anything. I can be completely by myself and not fret, worry, obsess, freak out, lie awake…
Again, I’m not sure what that is and I’m not sure if it’s going to be a lasting feeling or just fleeting. But right now it feels…just a little bit better. I can do this. It takes a while and I fall back and move forward and whatever. Yes, I still love him, but today I’m not aching for him. Today I’m not crying and spending my mental energy on him (yes, this entry…but I just want to record this feeling).
So happy for Friday. I totally welcome this weekend.
Love,
GS
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