ramblings of a broken-hearted sphinx
Well, I’m very proud of myself. I did indeed go to the gym. I partook in a second leg day of the week. It was graciously pretty empty today so not too much to be concerned about but overall, very good time. I felt great after.
I went home after that and took a shower and washed my hair. It felt very cleansing. Then, I warmed up some ravioli, did dishes, and watched some of the new Love Island episode. I spoke to my mom on the phone for 20ish minutes and then fell into somewhat of a YouTube shorts slump. I took accountability for my day after this and took a walk until I reached the usual bench and sat down to read Lolita.
I read for about 20-30 minutes and then returned home. The walk was quite unenjoyable due to the fact I was wearing a crewneck and shorts, even though it was 80 degrees outside. Silly me. I thought it would feel more brisk than it did as it’s been over 95 most of the last couple weeks.
I still feel upset to some degree. I feel sad and just like the wound has been pummeled in salt and then scrubbed viciously with sandpaper. I need to reheal and the good part is, it’s a familiar wound therefore the healing process should also feel more familiar to my brain.
I have a harsh abandonment wound due to the fact that my father would always leave me as a child and then never resolve this or acknowledge once he’d returned. I think that by acknowledging this outright, it can allow for me to view the situation or circumstance more logically than emotionally and this can help in regards to moving forward!
I feel the need to solve issues with people in my life that seem to matter because that burden was always put on my shoulders as a child and my brain recognizes the stagnant relationship I have at this point with my dad due to nothing ever feeling / being resolved. Therefore, it’s a need to solve everything instantly. And it feels unsafe to know there is a problem potentially unsolved or also just out of my control.
I also have a devalued view of myself because my dad prioritized his own immoral desires over my physical health and wellbeing. Allowing for my body to slowly suffer more and more as he knew the ramifications to the situation but decided to not be honest about it for over three years. This created a sense of confusion in my mind as to why I was worth so little that his lies were more important than me.
It’s all very interesting to consider, I suppose. But THIS is (reaching) completion.
I wonder if therapists or psychologists view their lives and brains in this way. Do they look at their problems from an extrospective perspective? I should inquire.
I asked Bobby if his job is draining because everyone he talks to is suffering from problems. He said it can be. He told me about two of his other clients. One of them has an anorexic mother that has influenced her view of her own body and the other has an alcoholic father that he struggles to have a relationship with. I think being a therapist would be alarmingly depressing. I told Bobby he can never get into work and think to himself, ‘I’m just going to have a slow day today.’ He laughed at this.
I wonder how many therapists are narcissists and get off on living a martyr life ‘solving’ other people’s problems. I feel like Katie was kind of into that. She liked to feel needed but she didn’t like to do the work. I found her new clinic she’s working at. I checked if I’d be able to transfer there with my current healthcare and I wouldn’t qualify. So that exes that out. Maybe I’ll find Katie online in 10 years and tell her how my life has gone. Maybe that’s narcissistic behavior. I do miss Katie, though. She was very comforting. Bobby is nice but more intense and more keen to pick up on strange cadences in my speech or physical behavior. He points it out, too, and then I feel very introspective and overthink about how he’s analyzing me. The way he clocked my anxious demeanor IMMEDIATELY last session is spooky. I wish he could appear sometimes in my apartment randomly, ha ha. Is that strange? Wow, imagine if he ever found this blog.
I think of God that way, though. Like if I’m wanting to die, there’s this hand on my shoulder and I can look up and almost see a kind face staring down at me, smiling. It’s comforting. A divine existence. Some Quakers think God is a woman. Maybe Ariana Grande is a Quaker.
I’m going to have a solo night tonight. Maybe I’m a bit nervous about that. Tomorrow I’ll work and see Alexa and on Saturday I’ll go to a party and Sunday, I don’t know yet. I need to have a good night. Maybe I’ll indulge in Taco Bell.
p.s. I just had a pep talk with Lizzy, the sweetest 20 year old on this Earth, about how her numbers do not have to be perfect. It was SO uplifting and I feel a really good thing to do because multiple people were almost in tears today over certain things. But it just felt so good to have a little bit of experience to reassure someone that they’re doing SO good and we all know how much effort they’re putting in and that that’s good enough!
p.p.s. (hey mister) I know it’s silly, but if you do read my blog posts, I’d loved to be informed. So, feel free to hit the ‘read’ button at the bottom. ;)