Spike's Bitches 48: I Say, We Go Out There, and Kick a Little Demon Ass.
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
I can't be broken right now. Too many people are depending on me.
I get that. This is *not* what I thought I was signing up for. I do actually believe it will be better out on the other side, but DAMN. I really thought it was, like, an archery class at Camp Butterworth, not the goddamn Hunger Games.
Yeah, I figure probably therapy would be good. Might help me be in a longer relationship than a few months. Might not. May just have not met the right person. But I figure I'm pretty functional right now, do I want to take the chance therapy would leave me a sobbing mess? Add that to the "but finding someone! And time! And money!" And well...thus I've never done therapy.
Hugs...like virtual hugs that allow plenty of personal space.
I had a Therapy Agenda that went out the window because i had to drive 45 minured to a person employment drug screening.
We only briefly touched on Saturday Mom was telling me about this book she read where the main character had an autistic son who tells the story in his POV.
And talks about how all the therapies and stuff made him feel broken and broken stuff goes in the trash.
And she has never clicked on how all the freaking doctors appointments and tests and shit made me feel broken. I did not say anything because we were headed to E's swim meet.
My therapist was shocked she'd be this clueless. And I realized I made her look bad and started back tracking because of guilt. I know it's not the same thing as other people are going through but I had to shove all the feelings aside. Now I get to put on the therapy agenda...why was I am child and then adult who felt so much responsiblity for their parents fwelings/emotions.
I am right there with y'all. I didn't want to go back to therapy or get a new psychiatrist and more drugs. I really didn't. My brain decided to have a little meltdown and I ended up with no real choice. This has been a hard year.
My subconscious mind keeps going, "Oh hey, did you forget about THIS harrowing experience? And did you realize how awful this one actually was?
Take it seriously, dumbass."
Thanks, subconscious.
"Edits well while crying"
Yeah, I can put that on my resume now. Frankly, I think we both, Steph, deserve massive credit for keeping our jobs while losing our shit. If I couldn't work from home, I'm not sure I could've done it.
If I couldn't work from home, I'm not sure I could've done it.
I don't know how I would have gotten through this year if I worked an office job. I would almost certainly not be employed right now.
felt so much responsiblity for their parents fwelings/emotions.
oh, askye, right there too. I like the "fwelings" typo! don't hurt their fragile little FWELINGS.
My feelings are pretty fragile too, but somehow stomping on them was okay. Man, look at all this bitter resentment. How do I get this nasty gunk off me.
Oh, therapy, right. Shit.
felt so much responsiblity for their parents fwelings/emotions.
At my last therapy appointment, I launched into a story of my mom's gaslighting and manipulation, and without even pausing followed it with, "But her childhood was really hard because my grandpa was horrific, and I can't imagine what it's like to suddenly be a single parent, and..." and that's about where I caught myself. I can't just describe my mom's horror-show parenting skills without trying to minimize it, that her life was hard, too, so it's understandable she'd be a horror show. Like, not EVEN to my therapist can I describe my mom's horrible parenting without making excuses for it.
I'm the same, Steph. I make excuses for all of them, trying to be fair, trying to not make them look bad. It's hard to accept that someone can be a good person and still hurt me badly, and I'm allowed to talk about how they hurt me without parentheticals and caveats.
I can't be broken right now. Too many people are depending on me.
I am Volans, except not with shiny new name. I don't have the time, and I may never. I am pretty damn aware of my issues and just have to figure it out, or not.
Yeah, time is a large factor for me too.
We pick up our puppy today, and part of me is so excited to get her, and another part of me is terrified (and slightly ashamed) that I'm not going to be able to housebreak or train her. Oh, and the lost sleep. I feel like the biggest tool.
My therapist has to constantly point out to me that whenever I try to talk about how angry I am at my dad I lower my voice and speak in a monotone.