Before I get into my actual post – I would like to apologize for my last post. I took a brief look at it and cringed at my publicized stream of conciseness. I thought about taking it down, but decided that my shame would stay my shame forever. (Unless I spoke like a pirate at any point…. that is just clear impressive) Also – my features photo today is of the Bar Mitzvah boy (if we recall from my alcohol induced previous post I was heading to Nashville for a Bar Mitzvah, and his Toronto cousins, which I was luckily enough to be included with)
As I had previously mentioned – my mother asked if she could go a therapy session with me and I agreed. The woman pushed me out of her lady parts – least I could do is say “sure come to therapy with me” and it started of okay. First my mom asked my therapist questions about my medications (My mother things I’m over medicated….I used to take more medications for my migraines) and then she surprised me because she asked if there was private group therapy group I could join/pay for. Living in Ontario our healthcare is covered by the government, which is why I have been on a waiting list since January for a CBT group and February for a DBT group, but to go for private group therapy would cost my mom about $200 a session, and there are 28 sessions, which is over $5000 dollars. My mind was blown.
My therapist made some suggestions of some private groups, explained that they would be pricy and I just sat there partly in awe over the fact that normally for everything my family waits for the free version (I had migraines for years, didn’t go to the states for an MRI or a doctor, waited 13 months in Ontario) and my parents were offering to shell out that much money – and then the rest of my thoughts…. what if it doesn’t work? what if this is another thing I fail at.
My therapist asked me if there was anything I would like to share or talk about with my mom there, and I explained how I felt that I was constantly letting her and my dad down. they paid for my higher education…for three different degrees, and I can’t even get a job at a grocery store right now. My mom put money in both our names that was mostly because the banks only insure up to a certain amount but because I had access to it, I spent 88% of it (I’ll give you a hint… it was about $100,000.00) she has since taken away my access to the money. But I spent part of it on things we needed, to pay for the taxes, mortgage, bills, but the rest I spent on I don’t even know, clothes, shoes, books, crafts, perfume… I have 3 gucci perfumes… which is crazy.. because I don’t wear perfume… it causes migraines. When I brought all this up my mom just scoffed and rolled her eyes, which bothered me a lot, and I started to cry.
My therapist asked why I was so upset and I told her its because I told her that I was telling my mom my feelings and my mom was making them invalid, or as if it isn’t right for me to have those feelings. Of course my mother told me that she is proud of me, and I’m not a failure and even if when I was in high school, she knew that I wouldn’t have a job later in life, she would still pay for my education because while I saw it as a waste of money, my parents see education as an investment, and never a waist. Even though I just finished getting my third certificate, my mother offered to pay for me to go back to school if there was something else I wanted to do.
My mom spent a lot of the session saying that they were very worried about me (her, my dad, my boyfriends mom) and they just wanted me to get back to normal… which upset me again, because when I was younger I was bright and vivacious and bubbly and happy all the time, I spoke to random people who happened to sit next to me, and I was so optimistic. Now I cry all the time, I get angry (like child stomping their feet angry) for no reason, getting out of bed is one of the hardest thing I do every day, and I hate being around people. So what if I never get back to what their idea of “normal” is?
I named this blog “Journey back to Normal” but I think in my one therapy session that my mom was at, I learned that I might have to re-define normal, because my normal, or what used to be my normal, clearly isn’t the same as it used to be.
Of course after therapy when I asked my mom what she thought she had amazing things to say about my therapist, and learned that she has to be very careful about what she says around me… not exactly what I wanted to hear, but at least she caught onto something my therapist was saying.
My actual post ends here… I’m just going to do a brain dump rant under this picture of me and my new potential boyfriend
- This is me and Arvi, My boyfriends cousins dog whom I love greatly and tried to dognap back to Canada, unfortunately my idea of saying he was my emotional support animal failed, because he’s a little crazy, and I think emotional support dogs are normally calm.
- Boy rant. Yesterday I woke up very early, went to the hospital for my botox appointment, had a very emotional driven conversation with my mother then came home. On my way home Mitchell called and we talked not about any of my appointments or his day, but about the fact that he had laundry to do. I said if he put it on the bed, I would do it for him because he was going out. By the time I got home, he had put the stuff in the was and I just needed to partially dry some things, and hang them, and then fully dry the rest. Instead because I had basically spent the day crying, I took a nap. I set an alarm to wake me up in 45 min so I could finish his laundry. It was 7pm. At 10pm he comes into the spare room where I fell asleep (Mitch doesn’t like the smell of some of the essential oils I find most calming) yelling because his things were still in the dryer and he was going to have nothing to wear and it was all my fault and that I was unreliable. He kept on yelling and saying hurtful things to me and then was like “well aren’t you coming to our room?”
- So I went to our room, incredibly hurt because he was using words he knew would hurt me the most, and I got ready for bed. I helped him finish his laundry, we watched TV and went to bed like nothing happened. but I still feel the hurt. So today I’m cleaning and grocery shopping and I finally found potted lilies. Lilies are my favourite flower. So I bought them, using our joint account card, when he asks I’ll tell him its because he felt so bad for hurting my feelings last night, he bought me my favourite flower. I’m even making his favourite dinner. Not because I feel like I have something to apologize for or anything, just because 98% of the time, my first thoughts are of him, and the other 2% of the time, I guess I’m sleeping when I shouldn’t be.
Anyways – that ends that portion of the rant. If you read all the way though… Gold star. Normally I would talk it over with my therapist, and I probably will, I just have to wait until next week. I hope you all had better days yesterday than I did… now I’ll go put away his laundry.