Today I’m being unreasonable. I know it. I also know that “all my feelings are acceptable,” even the unreasonable ones. So this evening, I’m trying to find some kind of balance between allowing myself to pout and fret because things are changing in a way I don’t want and accepting that things have to change.
Ah, clearly I’ve been working myself up to Part III, my mother in my teenage years. And now that I’m here, I want to back out. Never mind, I think. It’s all old news, anyway. She did what she felt she could at the time, and some of it wasn’t enough for me. End of story. Though of…
My wiser self has a conversation with my 14-year-old self about what’s really bothering her.
Just having a rough week.
I’ve been thinking about the difficulties with my therapist over the past month. She’s trying really hard to make it okay to trust her again. But do I want to?
Earlier this month, my therapist somehow hit that “you aren’t important to me” button in my psyche. And nothing has really been okay ever since.
So there I am, floundering around in my sense of abandonment, several days after the unhelpful therapy session with E. I am embarrassed that I have been so thoroughly discombobulated all because she moved up the time of our session, but I can’t let go of it. I alternate between fury with E and fury…