years that answer redux
When I started this blog, things were in flux: I was going to Japan, starting a new relationship, dealing with the death of my grandfather. "Years that answer" because I felt that, for the first time in awhile, I was in a phase of life when things were coming together, changing for the better.
Whether those years truly answered anything - I don't know. But now I'm 30, addressed with a bunch of new questions, and, again, for the first time in a long time, I feel like the years that question may be swinging back around to the years that answer.
I'm about to end therapy. I am extremely nervous about this. None of it feels all that tangible, but I've made so much progress in the last year - the last six months even. Honestly felt proud of who I am and what I'm capable of - feelings that I didn't even realize I didn't feel before. It's so exciting to like yourself for the first time. To realize that, no matter what you say, what you do, what you decide to do or not to do, it doesn't change the person who you are at the core - that person is still likable - lovable, even. That person is still cool and exciting and kind and engaged with the world. (And even if my writing vacillates wildly between first, second, and third person, I'm still a fantastic person.)
I'm nervous about continuing to make progress without that structure, without that extra perspective and insight. Will I just backslide and end up where I was 12 months and hundreds of dollars earlier? This is my fear. Because this feeling of self-acceptance is just that - a feeling. And I can't put into words or wrap my head anything that I've done differently, any way of thinking that I've consciously stopped, that makes up for this difference in pretty complete self-loathing to self-love and acceptance. What can I do differently if I start to feel badly again? I don't have a little bag of tricks that I can pull out and rationalize those terrifying, overwhelming feelings away.
I'm a little scared of myself and being alone with myself and with my thoughts.
But I'm not the same person I was a year ago. I know things now that I didn't know then - I look at myself differently than I did then. I still have a ways to go, but the basic structure of how I think about things (well, I guess, specifically about myself) has changed. When I'm in the throes of depression now, feeling trapped by my inadequacy, I can recognize that it's temporary. That, even though I feel like that right now, in this moment, I'll wake up tomorrow feeling better, having a more full perspective and feeling less overwhelmed by the sheer volume of things there are to do and how so few of them I've done and how poorly I've done at the ones I've tried.
Thinking about ending therapy, though, has put me in a state of internal alarm that I'm having a hard time seeing out of.. But, I recognize here too, that I've just felt this way a few hours. But the feeling was so overwhelming, so frightening... I'd almost forgotten how that feels.
Writing about it helps. I feel calmer now, even though I can't really say why. I want to be able to provide a happy ending to this post (why always this constant yearning to make everything okay, everything happy and fine and simplistic, even if it's none of those thing? but why is it not? why should it be not? i am okay. i will be okay.), and I honestly do feel less overwhelmed and underprepared.
now for sleep. sleep and run in the morning. both are good.
Whether those years truly answered anything - I don't know. But now I'm 30, addressed with a bunch of new questions, and, again, for the first time in a long time, I feel like the years that question may be swinging back around to the years that answer.
I'm about to end therapy. I am extremely nervous about this. None of it feels all that tangible, but I've made so much progress in the last year - the last six months even. Honestly felt proud of who I am and what I'm capable of - feelings that I didn't even realize I didn't feel before. It's so exciting to like yourself for the first time. To realize that, no matter what you say, what you do, what you decide to do or not to do, it doesn't change the person who you are at the core - that person is still likable - lovable, even. That person is still cool and exciting and kind and engaged with the world. (And even if my writing vacillates wildly between first, second, and third person, I'm still a fantastic person.)
I'm nervous about continuing to make progress without that structure, without that extra perspective and insight. Will I just backslide and end up where I was 12 months and hundreds of dollars earlier? This is my fear. Because this feeling of self-acceptance is just that - a feeling. And I can't put into words or wrap my head anything that I've done differently, any way of thinking that I've consciously stopped, that makes up for this difference in pretty complete self-loathing to self-love and acceptance. What can I do differently if I start to feel badly again? I don't have a little bag of tricks that I can pull out and rationalize those terrifying, overwhelming feelings away.
I'm a little scared of myself and being alone with myself and with my thoughts.
But I'm not the same person I was a year ago. I know things now that I didn't know then - I look at myself differently than I did then. I still have a ways to go, but the basic structure of how I think about things (well, I guess, specifically about myself) has changed. When I'm in the throes of depression now, feeling trapped by my inadequacy, I can recognize that it's temporary. That, even though I feel like that right now, in this moment, I'll wake up tomorrow feeling better, having a more full perspective and feeling less overwhelmed by the sheer volume of things there are to do and how so few of them I've done and how poorly I've done at the ones I've tried.
Thinking about ending therapy, though, has put me in a state of internal alarm that I'm having a hard time seeing out of.. But, I recognize here too, that I've just felt this way a few hours. But the feeling was so overwhelming, so frightening... I'd almost forgotten how that feels.
Writing about it helps. I feel calmer now, even though I can't really say why. I want to be able to provide a happy ending to this post (why always this constant yearning to make everything okay, everything happy and fine and simplistic, even if it's none of those thing? but why is it not? why should it be not? i am okay. i will be okay.), and I honestly do feel less overwhelmed and underprepared.
now for sleep. sleep and run in the morning. both are good.
posted by kathy at 1:35 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home