When I told my therapist I was having a hard time getting myself to respond to OkCupid messages, even when I WANTED to, and I went over my previous experiences with online dating, she said, “Well, yeah, that makes sense. If you’d tried ice skating 10 times and ended up breaking an ankle every time, you probably wouldn’t be too excited to try again.”YUP.
I had FaceTime therapy this morning because technology is wonderful, but now I have to, like…think about things? Like, what I…want from my life? Specifically re: relationships.
Um, isn’t that what I pay YOU for? You have a degree in Life. I have a degree in radio journalism. You tell me what to do, I announce it in the fancy news voice that belies my shitty Philly accent.
Get on that jawn, yo. I’ll be over here eating Brownie Brittle for breakfast. Report back.
I spent the day with some family, and just went to text their latest gossip to my sister. But then my brain went, “You really wanna start THAT conversation? Remember, insurance hasn’t started supplementing therapy costs yet.”
Good call, Brain.
This is actually a handy system, minding my mental efforts according to how much it’s going to cost me to fix the anticipated outcome.
Speaking of, who’s proud of me for lying to my stepdad’s face when he asked how my car’s been running? 🙋🏻
Today I had therapy, and we ended up with an exciting basis for NEXT week’s session, where we’re going to dive deeper into how 40+ years of coddling and condescension from everyone in my family could perhaps make me constantly doubt my capabilities as an adult, and affect my self-worth in all areas of life.
Awesome. Great. I’m SO glad I did this. 🙄
(I am, but…Christ. Originally I just went to therapy for some Breakup Krazy Glue, but ended up shattered six ways to Sunday. At least when my therapist starts writing groundbreaking articles about family insanity, maybe I’ll get royalties.)
(By the way, I am STILL very much on Team “Whatever Your Family Did, You’re an Adult, Handle Your Shit.*” But it turns out I just need some strategies to make that work as more than just bluster.)
(*Unless your family was LEGIT awful and not just underminey, in which case, obviously, you have the right.)
(Part of my damage is minimizing my damage because so many people have much worse damage.)
Post-therapy text to friends:
“BTW, I just got out of therapy and you wanna hear some horseshit? Not only does she want me to be happy and well adjusted, turns out she can’t just ask me a couple questions and fix 40 years of shit in 45 minutes. It’s, like…long-term work? That *I* have to figure out with her help? This is just like all this alleged ‘exercise’ people want me to be doing. UGH.”
P.S. It’s a joke, I knew what I was getting into. But it IS also bullshit that I drew the short straw in the brain department.
I just noticed that Guy I Dated for a Minute has RSVP’ed “yes” to a mutual friend’s holiday party I also said “yes” to.
Whatever, fuckface — I ain’t scared.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to spend the next 3 weeks getting pretty and practicing ignoring douchebags. Because that’s what Jesus would do.
(I’ve realized recently that whole thing messed me up more than it should have. But screw it, that’s what therapy’s for. Let’s dance, Psyche.)