Workin’ It

Published October 5, 2015 by sarcasmica

Therapy is a lot of work.

There, I said it.

Yes, I have a therapist. I have a damned good therapist. My husband and I have gone to counseling for our bigger issues. Issues that gone unmediated could have caused us to split potentially. I’m not ashamed we needed help. We have gone for counseling on more than one occasion, in more than one state, and have talked to more than one therapist.

There is no shame in this. It’s definitely DEFINITELY not the easy way out of anything. It’s the dirty, muddy, mucky, messy route right through the thick of it, actually. But there’s a cheerleader pointing us in the right direction. There’s someone outside of our team who can see hazards we don’t. Someone who is trained to show us how to navigate through the worst of it.

If I had a weird alien mole on my body, I would not wait and see what happens. I would go to a professional who knows how to diagnose the problem and fix it if necessary.

Are all therapists great and helpful? No. But some help is better than being in a situation where you are not happy, looking to a person who is equally unhappy, or even more so, and trying to figure out how to change it all.

Right now i’m going solo and it is work. I’m exhausted after today’s session. I am a person who likes things all even keel and drama-free. I don’t like feeling my emotions when I am not prepared to do so. I want everyone around me to be in a good mood all the time. Life is more fun when things are happy and fun, right?

Turns out around year 38/39 this hits a wall. A big one. A big brick one.

Recently we’ve been delving into my “Why”. Why am I overweight. Why am I not motivated to change my lifestyle when I know where i’m heading? Why can’t I “just do it” ?

Turns out my weight is my wall. So typical, right? *yawn* “Come on, Sarcasmica, give us something interesting to chew on!”

Sorry, but that’s it. Turns out negative attention as a child when you are a shy quiet child finds a way to become your shield when you’re an adult.

I have a fat-shield. A lard-guard. A chunk-force field.

Today I had to get to the bottom of that and it is not easy to just spend an hour feeling all the childhood feels, saying to your child self what you now know as an adult, and then just leaving the office.  It’s like giving your teenager the car keys without showing him first how to start the car.

Okay, maybe that was a bit dramatic, but it’s the same idea. “Here’s the root of your feelings, now go forth and reason. See ya next week!”

oy.

So I felt my way right to a restaurant with a bar and ordered a tall frosty beverage to help insulate the feels. Job well done, me! 🙂

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