I had my initial “Intake” appointment with the therapy group this morning.
Is it possible for me to answer the question/respond to the sentiment ”Do you miss Boston?”/”You must miss miss Boston” without weeping? Even after 10 months? A resounding no. I was a blubbering fool for a good fifteen minutes. Of course, the ending of Nanny McPhee and a “Brothers and Sisters” episode also made me cry this week, so I’m not the most stoic of women lately. It’s almost as bad as that dark summer in my mid-twenties when the boyfriend who brought me to Boston was arrested and institutionalized and I found myself crying over sappy Ricky Martin videos while eating cereal in our lonely apartment before going to work. Ricky Martin, people!
But I digress.
As I went through the list of life stresses with the therapist (whom I will not see next time, sadly), it sounded pretty pathetic. I have issues with: motherhood, geography, food, anger, social networks, my career, and finally self esteem. This makes me alternately: resentful, bored, angry, lonely, stressed, hopeless and sad.
Don’t ya’ll just wish you could hang out with me over a cup of coffee and dish about what a grand ol’ world it is? No wonder I’m not making friends very quickly. Arrgh.
However, the therapist said that she thinks therapy alone will probably be fine for me, that moving is one of the most stressful things people do, behind bankruptcy or losing employment. So let’s not even get into the disappointing end to my grad school career, becoming a new mother, or feeling like my career aspirations are on hold. That’s all just icing, apparently.
I’ll probably do a group therapy + single consulation combination starting in another two weeks. In the meantime, I should get aerobic exercise for 30 minutes every day and more sleep. Well, we’re working on the more sleep, and fitting in the exercise will be even more of a priority for me as I begin to train for the Indy Mini 500 half marathon that I’ve signed up for (and forked over $50 to do so).
I’m glad I’m seeking help. But it is weird listing for strangers all of your worst behaviors, throughts, and family histories. Made me feel like a bit of an alcoholic whore with horrible genes by the end. Not all right now, of course. Just at times. Faaabulous.
9 Comments
November 28, 2007 at 4:45 pm
My therapy was all about my mother. It was like a bad movie, really. But it was very helpful to get it all out. I do wish you lived around here, though, because we could totally vent to one another and let the boys do their thing.
November 28, 2007 at 5:33 pm
Oy–it is weird talking to a stranger about all your darker personality traits. Nothing like spending an hour babbling about yourself to, yup, you said it perfectly, make you feel like an alcoholic whore with horrible genes. Anyway, I’m thinking good thoughts for you and your process of making yourself happier. Yay for the talking cure!
November 28, 2007 at 6:33 pm
OH GIRL.
I am free “I hate Indy” Therapy.
Office hours start in January.
November 28, 2007 at 7:55 pm
Ah – I DO wish I could sit and talk with you over coffee. Your honesty is a breath of fresh air. Keep on keepin’ on. Remember when you’re weeping, it could be worse — you could be apatheic. Apathy is way way worse.
November 28, 2007 at 8:02 pm
We’re your friends! And I can relate to the crying when you’re finally able to discuss a painful topic. The same thing happened to me when I started therapy. All your emotions build and build and when you have a safe forum to deal with them, it’s like all your coping mechanisms peel away and you melt and are vulnerable. It’s tough but SO great that you’re reaching out.
P.S. I just saw Moosh in Indy’s comment, which is funny because I was going to ask if you read her blog. I love it and just read a particularly great post. It’s so refreshing to read about mothers being honest and forthright about motherhood in the face of absurd standards of perfection our society expects of them. The best part is that the honesty and being a wonderful, loving Mom are not mutually exclusive. AMEN!
November 29, 2007 at 10:58 am
One of the worst things about going to therapy for me is the realization of how many clichés I live in my life, daily. But I have to tell you, knowing I can go there once a week and let it all out and I won’t be judged by anyone (except, you know, I might be a bit harsh on myself…but I’m working on it) is something that really, really makes it easier.
I’m also doing group and it is very helpful. On a logical level you know there are other people out there going through very similar things, but your heart doesn’t really believe it. Group really shows you and makes it real. Other people go through it too. It’s an automatic support group (except for the part where you can’t get in touch with them outside of group). Just the fact that you took that step to get better means you’re already getting better. It’s huge. And it’ll only get better from here.
You should read the book Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. It’s everywhere, so you won’t have any trouble finding it. It’s helped me a lot, it might help you too.
November 29, 2007 at 1:25 pm
Sending happy thoughts your way as you are bravely taking this step, K.
November 29, 2007 at 4:27 pm
Thanks, everyone.
It’s heartening to know that many of you are in or have been in therapy. I think I’ve had a hard time accepting I need help because I’ve never felt like I deserved it the other people I know have needed it–like to cope with deaths or tragedies or very difficult childhoods, or debilitating pychiatric problems. (Here’s hoping none of you fit into these categories
)
But there are regular life transitions and moments in our lives when we need a third party to just listen and perhaps guide us, I guess. And I’m glad that we’re collectively a bunch of women who are wise enough to see this.
A–I did read “Eat, Pray, Love” this summer and adored it. It helped for a bit and I should just go back and read passages when I need to!
December 1, 2007 at 11:35 pm
Actually you sound just lovely to hang with – and to sip coffee and chat about the world with.