Being honest, being true to yourself, being a person rather than a role, a definition, a label, is quite difficult you know?
It takes courage, they say to me, to make me feel better. Does it take courage when you can’t help it?
I have always wanted to fit into a role. I envied those who could use labels to define themselves. As I grew, I envied those who would speak of themselves in definites: I like this. I am this sort of person. I have these values. I didn’t know what that felt like.
I give little value to all the definites, in the sense that no matter how much you assure me that you believe this and this alone, to me it’s only and always and necessarily transient. You may change your mind, one day. I care nothing for your definite, you will always be judged by your behaviour alone. Your words don’t matter.
Unless the words are of intolerance towards anybody, of feeling superior to anyone else, of hatred: then I care, too much.
But I digress.
I’m not even sure why… ah yes. So, I had my first session with Patrick the other day. This time the questionnaire asking whether you are suicidal, whether the various aspects of your life are imparired by your anxiety or your depression where, shall we say, a little more on the “every day or nearly every day” level.
Because, you see, keeping the negative thoughts at bay takes every ounce of my energy. So yes I can keep happy/peaceful/level, but at what cost? I don’t leave the house (exacerbating my social anxiety), I have to focus very hard on my work, I have to focus so hard on keeping level that all my energy is sucked up that way.
It was a good session, I think, if by good you mean I spoke philosophy of chaos to him (as one of the reasons to keep alive), and tears ozzing slowly whilst doing a simple mindfulness exercise. How embarassing. Fortunately it was at the end of the session so I could leave very soon after that. I hate crying at therapists. I hate losing control.
It’s very hard for me to know what exactly I am, and how I am. But it is just as hard to be true, to be real, to not perform. So I guess it was good because there was a bit of real me in that session. I don’t like it: it’s chaotic, makes no sense, talks gibberish, but I guess it’s better than performing admiraby for my therapists leaving them with the impression that I am really really good at playing life.
Ok some more gibberish and confusion right now, just needed to cleanse the air before I did something productive today, sorry, move along, move along 🙂