I completed a therapy session yesterday. Just one more session, sure. I did notice something different this time around. My desire to see this treatment through has a little more attitude. It was a full blown open and honest discussion. A rare encounter for me given that I lack trust in most people I meet. It is an ugly demon I created by ignoring and pushing aside all the damage in me.
I think the worsening of tears and nightmares have finally worn me out. To the point of leaving very little room for a safe return. And I take full responsibility for it. Luckily, I am taking the steps I needed to take years ago to secure livable habits. Success or not. Know that I’m giving it my all to fix this.
I’m pretty open when it comes to writing about my life. I’ve been told to keep my life private a few times. That strangers do not need to know what goes on in my personal life etc . . . I understand the dangers and animosity it can bring. The “too much information” thought. The judgmental looks and the “she should not be _________” conversations.
All I know to be clear and true to is my writing. These lines are my purest form. I’ve never been a talker. Call it shy or call it strange. I never knew how to carry conversations well. Even at a younger age. I was always the one to bring people together. Once I did, I’d always quietly be with these lively people and just watch. And laugh. And say a contributing secondary word or two. And be on my way. I don’t know how to be with you without writing. So I risk the taunts and regrets of exposing my life to feel some sense of community and being.
I’ve been practicing meditation through Tich Nhat Hanh’s Dharma Talks and he confirms my thoughts best. At the end of the day, we are each other. As one. Until we learn how to suffer together, we will never learn how to be peacefully one.
Well that was a drastic change in direction. Buddhism practice deserves its own page. In the meantime, I recover from an intense session. The dehydration, night sweats and mental overloads will be worth it if I can step out and function like I use to. Maybe as quiet as usual. But with happy moments and the ability to say, hey. Today was a good day.