It's been a while

Finding it hard

So, as predicted, I have already become useless at this blog. I haven't updated it for two sessions now and the third one is in a couple of days. So, as well as dreadful writing skills, I also have time keeping issues. Well, you can't say you weren't warned.

Aside from my obvious lack of blogging ability, I have found that when I have 'good' sessions, I find it harder to write about it. Kind of makes sense I guess. I have often found in the past (certainly its why my therapist thought I would be a good idea in the first place) that when I have felt overwhelmed by emotions I have found I easier to articulate them in an email rather than say them face to face. I am quite cowardly as it goes and can only find truthfulness once I am safely behind the computer screen. I don't have to look at anyone's face to misread their reaction or indeed let them have any reaction at all. It allows me to say my piece and them completely switch off.

Indeed. I am only writing this now (1130 on a Friday night, don't be too jealous of my rock n roll lifestyle) since something has greatly angered me. Upset the equilibrium that I was, for a change, experiencing. Only when I am truly angered, or feeling some other extreme emotion can I put finger to keyboard.

The reason for my anger

This is an interesting one. When I explain what has set me off this evening, I expect you will laugh and think how truly childish and petty I am. As usual, as everyone who has known me, friends and family alike, you will only see the event and not what has caused the event. People don't take the time to look behind why I would react so strongly to something so minor. It is hardly ever, if ever, the event itself. It is always what it represents.

I need to go back for a little bit for some context. I don't have any skills, at least not any useful ones. I am of average intelligence, weight, looks and anything else that you can 'be'. There isn't anything that I excel in. I am not a great runner (though that is not for lack of trying) I can't swim or play an instrument, I don't speak another language nor am I good with my finances. When I was younger I became obsessed with the TV show Friends. I watched it constantly, almost like my life depended upon it. I grew to learn the words, at one stage I claimed I knew every word to every episode. I used to challenge people to give me quizzes, I would always win. Then my younger cousin came along and liked it just as much and watched it just as much as I did. Suddenly, I wasn't the Friends expert anymore. I had one thing that I was good at, it was superficial at that and I couldn't even hang on to it.

It was the same with board games, monopoly in particular. I wasn't as intelligent or talented as my siblings so I searched for something, ANYTHING that I could be the best at. Monopoly for a while became my new thing. But of course, when average-ness is part of your DNA being the best, if you even ever were, never lasts. Slowly but surely I have noticed that even my good board games 'skills' have deserted me.

And so, in a long winding and rambling fashion I come to this evening. My boyfriend, who I love very much, excels at everything. He is just one of those people. There isn't anything he can't do and everything comes very easily to him. He ambles through life in his mild and unassuming manner, quietly winning at everything he turns his hand to. Without really trying. As I am sure you have now guessed, he beat me at monopoly. I could see it coming and my stomach just began to fill with dread. Is I fair? He is good at all the stuff that matters, can't I be good at the stuff, just one thing even, that doesn't? Of course not. It is just another reminder, which at this stage I hardly need, of how utterly average I still am. And probably always will be. I know his reaction to my latest episode is to refuse to play games with me anymore, thereby missing the point entirely.

Back to the sessions

Still, I digress. Apologies. This blog is supposed to be about my treatment, not a commentary on the inane details of my average life.

The sessions haven't been particularly hard for me, though I would like to make clear, not enjoyable either. The session this week was interesting and I almost feel like I learnt something and was perhaps preparing to be slightly less harsh on myself. Events of this evening have, of course, put paid to that. But for completeness I will share them with you anyway.

The member I do not get along with stormed out of the session after a heated discussion with another member. Afterwards we were asked what we thought about him leaving and I gave an answer which in my head I knew not to e what I actually thought. So coloured I am in my distaste for him that I gave an answer which satisfied my need to 'get' at him rather than the truth. After a few minutes, I actually volunteered this information to the therapists. I often find I am too honest for my own good, but in this instance it was probably for the best.

I simply stated that my comments could probably be discounted since I said them out of my intense dislike for the member rather than a true reflection on what I thought. I was praised for my honesty, which I found odd.

Honesty. That is the backbone of the lesson I thought I had learnt. At the beginning of the session I noted that I had had a small argument with my boyfriend and had gone to bed with my back to him. He tried to reason with me and actually something he said resonated. At that point I had forgiven him. Yet. I couldn't tell him this. In my head I wanted to turn round and give him a hug, but I denied myself this. Why you might ask. Probably because I am bat shit crazy, but the shrink in me thinks it might be trying to validate the feelings I had in the first place. I was so mad that I couldn't possibly be over it that quickly. It was literally like cutting of my nose to spite my face. I was the only person I was hurting but not hugging him. The only thing I felt I could do was tell him this. So as ridiculous as it sounds (believe me, it reads badly, it was even worse out loud) I explained to him that I wanted to hug him but I couldn't.

Eventually, I did turn round and hug him. The therapists think that I am getting better just by being able to articulate these thoughts. I myself disagree with that, but I wondered something else. I thought that maybe, my way of cutting down the time that I feel hyper emotional is to simply say it out loud. I wonder if by forcing myself to read my mind aloud I can hear how irrational I am being and thus begin to 'come out of it' much sooner.

I know. It's not much in the way of getting better. Reads like a slightly less version of crazy. But, until tonight it made me think maybe this is MY version of getting better. Then I lost at monopoly and lost all hope again.

Sigh. Back to the drawing board. Luckily for me it is a place I am extremely familiar with.

Until next time, over and out.