Well, I got nice feedback from my super awkward and TMI post, but it was super awkward to have that out there. However, some of that was like an old gross pustule. It needed to come out — to, literally, be expressed.
People, and I include myself in that group, become imprisoned by their shame, and then feel ashamed of that as well. It’s no good. Everyone’s all fucked up and gross inside, but we’re fragile and innocent inside too.
ES and I have resolved to continue this thing we’re trying, for at least another 30 days. My goals are to learn to trust myself…to, like, actually believe I can be trusted to care for myself on a most basic level. Feel body inside: is hungry? Give food. Is hungry still? Give more food. Is anxious/scared/depressed/anxious? Do not give food.
I continue to feel compelled to manage my anxiety with food. But, strangely, the strictness of this program helps me. Food is for mealtimes when my body is hungry. All other conditions must be solved some other way. And since alcohol is off the table, I have to do something else. Here’s what I have so far:
Drink a bubbly water
Make a list
Make an executable plan (which differs subtly from a list)
Execute a plan
Cry and/or let myself feel bad and/or scared about stuff
I never knew that setting tasks and then accomplishing tasks would give one a feeling of empowerment and self-efficacy. I mean, I guess I had “read” such concepts, or “heard of” them, but the old canard is true. You’re not ready until you’re ready. I feel kind of silly about it now. And a little depressed when I think of all the time that has gone by. And very scared when I think that this won’t stick. But in the last couple years I’ve stretched myself emotionally and had my stretches, for the most part, work out. I don’t think I’m going backwards. I’m going forward, sometimes at a glacial pace, but ever forward forward never backward and always spinning spinning. I had some tough news over the weekend, and I had to feel disappointment and anxiety and anger. And then I had to feel the intense desire to eat some junk food. And then I cried and said, “I’m disappointed and angry.” And then I realized that my feelings were about expectations for a future that was never guaranteed…no one’s is. And I accepted that I can just move forward making the best choices together with my man about our family and what’s best for us. And all will be ok.
My main question for myself is: is it now time for therapy? I don’t know if it’s better to do that when things seem to be going well or what? I know I need to work on some specific anger and grief stuff, and self worth stuff. But therapists scare me because I had one who would fall asleep when I was talking. Wow, the worst. So, even though I had a good one after that bad one, I still think about him (the bad one) first when I think of seeing one.
I guess I’ll ruminate on it more, but this is the first time I’ve really put the possibility out in the atmosphere.