I had an appointment with my therapist this morning (I’m super happy she is back from maternity leave). We talked about all the self-deprecative silly thoughts bestowed upon my psyche this past couple weeks.
- I turned 35 and I am acting like I am so old. I am getting married soon and I am excited about that… but then I start thinking about kids… and the fact I am still not 100% on where I stand with that… and how I will be 36 if all goes right when I become pregnant for the first time. I know women are having children later in life than in the past but I can’t help feeling scared about it.
- I am having many more “I feel fat and ugly” days recently. I am trying to get healthier but every 3 steps forward I fall back 2 1/2. It’s like I can’t east anything without it attaching itself to my stomach. Fat loves my stomach 😦 I don’t place my happiness on being thinner but I really would love to do things without all the extra pain and effort it takes.
- My troubled past creeps in from time to time knocking me out of nowhere when it does. This past weekend I was reminded how sometimes… if not most of the time.. people don’t like to get involved in situations that don’t involve them. A conversation was had amongst friends regarding some new loud neighbors… and possible abuse happening. I made the suggestion that the cops be called but I was retorted with a “I don’t want to get involved.” This brought me back to the time my neighbors didn’t call the cops when I was screaming for my life. Instead they called the rental office to complain about the noise level coming from our apartment. This naturally dampened my mood and I ended up crying waiting on a line to buy lake tour tickets.
- This led to me hating on myself. I hate that I cry all the time. I hate that these memories and pains can’t just disappear completely from my life. I understand that this is impossible that my past is a part of my but I don’t want it to keep interfering with my future.
- This brought my thoughts to what is the point of life and why even exist? No I would never kill myself but that still don’t stop me from questing the point of it all if pain never completely heals.
- I actually said the words to myself… I hate being white. Driving through the south we saw a whole lot of confederate flags… a friend who lives down south doesn’t go to certain places because her skin is brown… this superiority complex of some white people does not represent me… so why do I beat up on myself? I don’t treat people like I am better… never have.
- I bury my depression in shopping but I need to focus on saving… so my internal struggle to want stuff with the words Harry Potter or Star Wars on it is at odds with my desire to go on vacations… what the hell is wrong with me!
I am in so much mental pain I don’t know what to do with it all.