It’s Not Me, It’s You

I broke my promise to write every week (or at least I think I did). But I’m writing more than once every three months and let’s look at that as a victory, shall we?

I quit my therapist this week.
Or to be more exact I fired her. I accessed the hive mind and it seemed like the time is right. I have been seeing her since January and we’re at a standstill. She’s given some good advice, especially in regards to my mother. But, on the other hand, she hasn’t given enough words. I would say something and she would go “Yup, she’s awful.”
Then each session would turn into how I’m wasting my potential and why I haven’t quit my job.
This, obviously, got old. I tried to divert the conversation back to where I wanted, but it didn’t work. Maybe I didn’t try hard enough? But I also can’t help but think I shouldn’t have to try hard enough?

So I canceled my last appointment and I’ve ghosted her. I’ll try therapy again in a few months when insurance elections settle (changing things at work), but yeah. I need different help.

Considering I got help to begin with and I’m willing to try again, this is also a victory, right?

Jam of the Day – The Head and the Heart “Rhythm and Blues”

 

On My Honor, I Solemnly Swear

I’m a bad blogger. I recognize this. I’m really good at starting them, I like setting them up and I sometimes write a little.

Then I ghost on it. I promise to do better. At least one post a week. Okay? Between you and me.

One thing my therapist has taught me is that I just have to keep going. I think I have a story to tell. I also think I want to be a writer. I even entered a short story into a writing competition. Did it get past the first round of judging?
…no. But it’s the fact that I did it. I did something new and it didn’t kill me.

I’m also applying for new jobs like crazy. It’s not that I dislike the people at mine. In fact, they’re some of the nicest I’ve ever met. I’m just bored to tears. Today all of the attorneys are at some sort of off-site training.

This means that when the cat is away, the mice will play. It’s safe to say that while I do nothing (or close to it) on a daily basis anyway, I’ve done nothing today and haven’t even tried to hide it. This has made time go very slowly.

Much as I said before.

Just keep swimming.

Jam of the Day – Feist “1,2,3,4”

It Might Be Okay To Feel Your Feelings

I had my first therapy appointment about a week ago. It went considerably better than I expected. I was incredibly nervous, which apparently is quite normal. What I expected was the following (or something like it).

“So, why are you here? Tell me a bit about yourself,” says the nice, yet intimidating older therapist lady.

“…well, I’m not sure. I don’t really get along with my mother, which causes a lot of tension…er…fights in the house. I also am, I guess, anxious about a lot of stuff. Like, I don’t know…I just thought this would be a good idea? You know, I figured it couldn’t hurt or whatever,” I reply, timidly, looking around the office at all the books and boxes of Kleenex, tucked in corners for use by clients who burst into tears at a moment’s notice.

“…If that’s all, frankly, I’m not sure I can really help you. You either need to be bonkerballs or…no, that’s really it. So call me when you’re stark raving mad, okay? You do seem awful nice,” comes the somewhat canned response as she hands me a card and sends me on my way.

 

…This clearly did not occur. The therapist was kind and amusing and gentle with the fact that it was blatantly obvious that I was basically terrified. We just chatted and I didn’t come off like a lunatic. I have another appointment coming up and to say I’m looking forward to it is an exaggeration, but it’s certainly not something I’m dreading now. It’s also not something I plan on telling my mother about. There are some things she just doesn’t need to know about, you know?

Jam of the Day – Arkells “11:11”

What I Want To Be When I Grow Up

When I was in high school, or maybe a bit earlier, I decided it might be interesting to be a photographer. This was after I gave up on being a ballerina (too fat and too clumsy), an astronaut (took calculus and couldn’t add), and for a brief time, Prince William’s Wife (too American and too common).

However, I eventually harbored a secret dream. I thought I might like to be a singer. Perhaps I would be on the stage and singing on Broadway, in some smash musical, or maybe I would be like Adele, except not nearly as good. I had settled, in my head, for an average career. Playing small venues perhaps, being a sort of “indie” artist. The one everyone listened to before it was cool to hear them on the radio.

The only problem to all of my planning and daydreaming about who I would write songs with and what gown I would wear to the Oscars (as I was obviously nominated for Best Song), is I have a massive case of stage fright. In high school I did a few plays and the act of speaking in front of others isn’t nerve wracking at all. I did it just fine.

Singing in front of other people, on the other hand, was a recipe for disaster. Sweaty palms, nausea, headaches, I just couldn’t breathe. Who, in their right mind, DID this sort of thing? I remember I auditioned once for a musical and I actually had to sing in front of ten other people.
TEN.
I nearly passed out. I started so quietly I think only bats heard me and I had my eyes closed. Sweating through my t shirt I sang “Fever”, which I’d done loudly and proudly many a time in the shower and car, terrified out of my mind. I had my audience (my friends, really (I went to a very, very, small school)) snapping along, trying to be encouraging, but when you’re in near tears, the only thing you want is for the floor to open and swallow you whole, or for God to smite you then and there for all of your sins. At 16ish, I didn’t have nearly enough sins to warrant it, I was an obnoxiously rule abiding child.

This single experience, this one audition in what can be considered by most basically all to be an annoyingly “safe space” was enough to convince me of my crippling stage fright. I was content to be backup in a musical (if needed), not on stage at all (even better), and to hold my own shows in the safety of my car, where no one could hear me.

Jam of the day – The Revivalists “Wish I Knew You”

 

Intergalactic Dreaming

When I was six or seven years old, I was sitting in the living room, watching an episode of The Adventures of Pete & Pete. I watched far too much tv as a child, but at least it was good tv.

My parents were in the library, watching something I thought was boring and adult like, like A&E. Or the History Channel (before it was taken over by Aliens and Hitler). But then, I was called into their room, their boring adult hang-out space. “You’ll want to see this, I promise,” my father said. Being the overly obedient child I was, I turned off my most excellent show and settled into the library for whatever it was my parents wanted to show me. I had no hopes it was good and was, in fact, fairly annoyed at missing the end of my episode.

When the spaceship came across the screen, when the lightsabers slashed across one another, when R2-D2 made his beeps and boops and C-3PO understood him, I was absolutely enchanted. I was positively delighted. This was absolute magic at its finest. Even with commercials (as we were watching on WGN) I knew full well that this was a movie that had just changed my life. This Star Wars, this thing, my life, would never be the same.

I spent the next two nights watching Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi, eager to see where this would go. My parents, who are useless for historical events (“Where were you for the moon landing” “…I don’t know, I think I saw it…maybe, it was college so like, who’s to say?” “ajgrphogpighrp!”) even knew and remembered the first time they saw Star Wars. Apparently THIS was enough of an event to sear into their memory.

I went to school on Monday, telling my friends about this movie, explaining to them what they’ve been missing in their lives. Luke, Han, Leia and their friends (and enemies – Helloooo Darth Vader and Grand Moff Tarkin) became regular fixtures in my life. I saw them every chance I got. Snow days became Star Wars Days. I became them every chance I got when playing or daydreaming.

These new movies let me visit my friends in new ways, see them in new stories I didn’t dream possible. It’s funny to think that even seeing Darth Vader again, is like catching up with a seriously evil, old friend that you didn’t realize you missed.

I grew up wanting to be Princess Leia. More importantly, I want to be a bit like Carrie Fisher. Smart, funny, strong and beautiful to boot, she was everything I hoped to be. A great writer, funny, witty, kind, intelligent, and beautiful to boot, who can’t say that she isn’t just ideal. But if I can be a little but like Princess Leia, that would be great. I want to lead a rebellion, be strong, and I think we all know that this is the time to do it.

Jam of the Day – Semisonic “Closing Time”

Lows Bars Aren’t Something To Brag About

The bar for 2017 isn’t set particularly high. I know this because this time last year I was on the phone with insurance people, sorting out the car accident I was in the day before, courtesy of the seventeen-year-old who thought it would be fun to put an enormous dent in my front bumper, thus rendering my car undrivable.

I really should have known then that perhaps 2016 was off to a questionable beginning.

This year, so far, is going better. I didn’t have to work on New Year’s Day because I don’t work retail anymore. Not sacrificing my blood to the Retail Gods is really something I can (and d0) live without these days. Working a 9(ish) to 5 is a gift that I am grateful for. Paralegal school was hard, mostly because I’m a super nerd who doesn’t fuck around when it comes to classes and a mini nervous breakdown will do wonders for a girl’s figure. I mean, not eating will cause anyone to lose 10 or 15 extra pounds.

The only downside is you put it back on. Baby steps if you ask me. It’s the beginning of the year. As we know, anything can happen.
This is exactly what I’m afraid of.

Like Dory says, “Just keep swimming, just keep swimming”.

Jam of the Day – One Direction “Night Changes”