Giving Myself Permission...

Today I met with a therapist for the first time in almost 2 years.  Which means I might have to change the subtitle of this blog.  Well, shit.

The last time I sought counseling was at the end of my marriage...which ultimately helped me walk away.  I've never had an issue with seeking help when I felt I needed it, but despite living through the most difficult 2 years of my life- it was only a week ago that I realized I really, really needed to see someone.  My catalyst came during a normal day at work, doing something I've done for over a decade...and yet, I had a full-on panic attack that nearly lost me a long-time client in the process.

Thus, therapy.  It's been a long time coming.

The hour went a little something like this...

Therapist:  Why are you here today?

Me: I've had a difficult couple of years and the stress and anxiety have finally reached a boiling point.  It's affecting my work.

Therapist: What happened in the last 2 years that caused you stress?

Me:  Well, I left my husband and filed for divorce after discovering he was a gay narcissist, then I packed my things and moved halfway across the country to be closer to family.  I left behind a fully furnished 5 bedroom house and my 2 cats.  But I got to keep my dog...and half his debt. When I got here, I learned I had to have major abdominal surgery to fix multiple tears in my abdomen that were a result of living with prolonged stress while married.  During my recovery, they discovered a mass in my left breast and told me it looked like cancer.  2 mammograms, 3 ultrasounds, and 2 biopsies later (and over a month of time)...I was told it wasn't cancerous.  A week later the baby my sister was 2 weeks from delivering died while still in the womb.  I was there for the birth and spoke at my niece's memorial.  Around that time, the guy I was seeing turned into an verbally abusive alcoholic.  It took me months to finally get him out of my life.  A week after he left, my one true love- my dog- died from a brain tumor at 5 years old.  While recovering from that loss, my ex-husband was given a huge promotion and an enormous pay raise, and his new favorite past time has become sending me messages telling me how rich and happy he is.  6 weeks ago I learned I had a brother that was given up for adoption over 40 years ago and I met him for the first time 2 days ago.  He said some things that reminded me of things my father used to say, and now my long-burried daddy issues have resurfaced.  That's all I can think of right now...so I guess we can start there...

Therapist: (staring at me wide-eyed)...........I've heard of bad things happening in threes, but never in twenties.....so.......when was the last time you felt any sense of calm or peace?

Me: .......................(thinking)...............6 years ago.  When I used to spend my weekends hiking with my best friend.  And I had a garden.

Therapist: When was the last time you did something kind for yourself, something to help you feel centered?

Me: .....................(drawing a blank)

Therapist: Take your time, I'll wait.

And there it is. The reality that I have become so accustomed to living in chaos and stress that I don't even take the time to breathe each day. I've been conditioned to expect the worst (so to speak) so I create my own anarchy before it can be thrust upon me.

Basically, I am Pavlov's dog.  Just not as famous...or well fed.

Thankfully, I now have a really good therapist who gave me the best homework ever for this next week. I have to go get a massage. And my intense cardio workouts will now be replaced with stress-reducing yoga. I am to continue writing in this blog, but I have to also keep a journal for my eyes only.

She told me I've been in 'survivor' mode for far too long, and that I've never given myself even a second to heal before moving onto the next thing.  My memory loss as of late is most likely a result of my brain finally giving me the middle finger, my anxiety is a result of too much change in too short a time.  She has asked that I not make any intentional changes for a while- no switching gyms, no major anything...unless it's somehow beneficial to my mind, body, and soul (Bora Bora anyone?).

She said it's time I give myself permission to be still, be calm, be happy, be centered, and be whole.

So there we go.  My life continues on. But maybe, just maybe there comes a point down the road that I don't feel like I'm in a constant state of, 'what NOW?!' Perhaps someday something really great comes from all of this.

And if not? Fuck it. This dog is off to find a treat...