The holidays are upon us and this year is, hopefully, closing out a year of loss and pain and anger and sadness.
Over the past year we have lost a beloved pet (she was with us for 15 years), my dad, my brother, a grandmother and my daughter’s innocence and security.
Having lived through the losses we’ve endured has beat me down a little. I have had a difficult time processing it all and some days are much harder than others to even get through without breaking down on some level.
So, what’s a girl to do? Well, my psychiatrist said (prior to my brother’s passing.. what would she say NOW?) that I have yet to deal with my dad’s death. She’s probably right. She recommended that I get my ass back in to therapy (paraphrasing a bit here). It’s been about six month since her suggestion, but I finally made the dreaded appointment and am off to spill my guts to a complete stranger later this week.
I am not a good patient/client. The last time I saw this therapist she asked me why I was there and I, in an almost combatant tone, insured her that I was only there because my psychiatrist said I had to be. This response did not go over well. Needless to say, a follow up appointment was not scheduled.
I just don’t feel like any therapist I meet with can provide me with any tools beyond what I already have in my tool chest. It’s all the same. They tell me the same things that I used to tell my clients. They recommend the same actions. They aren’t telling me anything NEW. Maybe it’s because there are only so many tools available. Maybe it’s because I’m stubborn and refuse to really listen. All I know is I have never been very good at taking my own advice. I know what to do. Apparently, I just don’t know how to do it. Or something.
All of the reflection on the whys and hows and reasons that I refuse to allow anyone to help me is all moot at this point. The reality is that I am going to my appointment. I’m going to try to listen. I’ll attempt to implement the suggestions that she gives me. I’ll play the game to the best of my ability. And we’ll see what happens. Maybe I’ll cry and give in. Maybe I’ll allow her to help me help myself. Maybe I’ll still be obstinate. I really don’t know how it will play out.
But I’m going to try.
I need to try.
I mean, life goes on, right?