November 30, 2021

Me. Me. Me.

Because I have to get to my second of two doctors appointments in the next half hour, I'm not going to post much today. Well, okay, I'll post a little, starting with, I think this might be my last trip to the therapist for a while. Wow, now that I write that word on this blog, I remember a scene from a play I once read, but I can't remember the name of the play, I want to say it has something with Room or Girls in the title, but I'd be lieing if I remembered at all, but it's this scene where one woman talks to another woman (how exciting) about how therapists rape you. The - rapists.... it's in their name she says. Oh, yeah, I just remembered the name of the play, its called In the Boom Boom Room. I don't know what part of my brain that came out of, probably the same part that triggered the recollection of "the rapist"...but I don't think my therapist is a rapist at all, I just don't think he's doing it for me.

But the thing is, I don't think any therapist would do it for me. Not after last night, when I went all psycho on the boyfriend, and the only person who could talk me out of my mood was me, although the boyfriend definitely helped. He's one of the most amazing boyfriends I've ever met, and he's really good at getting out of the way when my energy gets out of control. Well, most of the time. Last night he wanted to punch the wall...Again, totally my fault. But instead, or after, I don't think he actually punched the wall, it was more of a simulated punch, he sat and talked to me and helped me discover things that therapists usually help people uncover. He talked a lot about solutions and not problems. And he's much cheaper (as in less expensive) per visit. And today when I go to the therapist, I'll wind up talking about last night and processing, but I don't usually go away with any more solutions than the ones I came up with the boyfriend last night, or this morning, when I was more lucid. I think I am my own best therapist, or at least my own second best one, my boyfriend might be better than I am.

And all I really want to do is show him how sorry I am for how I acted last night. It's this strange viscous cycle that happens to me every so often, and I can't really describe it or define why it's happening.

But I hate that it does. I've been doing a lot of thinking about my own issues when it comes to relating all week, and last night they just blew up and blew so out of proportion.

But things are better today...and I haven't even gone to therapy, only to the dentist for a cleaning. Speaking of that cleaning, the hygeniest told me she'd give me some numbing gel to ease the pain, but that numbing gel is a farce, it doesn't work, she just wanted to make me believe that it did. It's okay though, because I like pain, and I especially like pain pressed up against my gums. I always have, it's this sick little factoid about me, I used to scrape my gums with my nails just to feel the pain. I wasn't abused as a child, it was just something I liked the feel of. And the cleaning brought me back to that "happy space." Or maybe it shouldn't be such a happy space - is this something I should talk to my therapist about?!

I just don't think it's working for me (therapy). At least not right now. The only person who can make me change, and recognize my change, and talk to me about MY change is ME.

Oh yeah, and Jonny (my boyfriend)...but basically I know it's all up to me.

Me. Me. Me...yes, that's what's it all about....

Posted by jamye at November 30, 2021 04:30 PM