Therapy Log: 14 March 2014

Oh my.  Friday is usually such a good day with all that anticipation of a weekend just around the corner.  Not this one though.

It’s not so much fear as a little jumbled up with the unknown.  It’s now a month since I last had any contact with my girlfriend.  I still live in hope though.  There was a five week gap between when we last saw and spoke to each other before.  Maybe, just maybe, if I can hang on a while longer, she will be back in my arms again.

The alternative is too painful to contemplate, my love for her too deep to take.  She’s torn me apart already.  I can’t bear the pieces left of my life being damaged any further.

Of course, there’s bills to pay, jobs to search for, and all other incumbent pressures that haven’t helped while my mind spiraled back into depression; having to give up the first paid job in five years on health grounds was a real dent to both finances and self esteem.  I would’ve coped with all that, and did, albeit unhappily, had my heart not been torn asunder.

At least this therapy is now one-on-one, without attendant distractions of someone trying to take centre stage in groups.  And this is within walking distance, a walk markedly less than from the train station to group therapy on those cold, dark wet winter nights.  Already it’s a step forward.

I choose the shortest route.  It’s also the least pleasant.  Nice to walk through a park, but mostly it’s wandering by a main trunk road, surrounded by grim buildings, dirtied by all the pollution of the thousands of passing cars day after day.

I take a seat in a corridor.  It has more of a feel to an appointment with a solicitor.  People occasionally wander by as if I’m not even there.  I like anonymity though.  I don’t want people to think anything of me because I think nothing of myself.  There’s somehow a discomforting comfort in that.

Eventually I get called in by Lesley.  A pleasant looking woman, a pleasant smile, and a pleasant disposition.  I’m hurting Lesley, I’m hurting.  Being pleasant can only go so far.  Please help me.

Woman at therapy

We sit there for a short while, conversation a little stilted.  I try to tell her how I feel about various situations in my life but I feel so anxious, so coiled up.  I try to use humour every now and then to try to ease my own tension.  We both know it isn’t working though.

Lesley asks about my relationship and I falter.  The words that come out are punctuated by gulps.  No tears.  Just that familiar feeling of anxiety and heartbreak coming to the fore.  When the possibility of seeing someone else is mentioned, I am adamant.  Never again.

I also tell her about lies I’ve told in my life, and the probability I’ve told her one or two without even realising during the course of our session.  It was never to do with infidelity, social habits, or any illegal activity.  It’s always been embellishments to stories to make me look better, or to try to spare someone’s feelings or worries regarding everyday life issues.

Bull’s Eye.  Lesley says it’s a sure sign of someone who habitually has low self esteem and issues with confidence.  I’m expecting judgement but what I’m receiving instead is understanding.  She’s knows where I’m at.  For the first time since the turn of this year, I feel someone is on my side instead of a constant losing battle against the world.

I still tense up whenever she mentions the future and a possible life without my girlfriend but there is a definite something there.  Lesley has helped me to think that maybe I don’t have to live the rest of my life feeling as unbearably sad as I have been and still do.

Before long, I’m on my way back home, via that grimy trunk road and park.  Must think of a better way to get there next time.  Have to think of a better way to live my life too but I know which one is going to be easier.

Then again, maybe that wander back signifies how everyone has to live.  To get to the green, green grass of home you have to work your way through the grime.  Sometimes, when dealing with grime, you need that helping hand.  I’ve had the first of them today.  All of a sudden, Friday seems not quite as scary as it was a couple of hours ago.

For the first time in months, my life, and the weekend belongs to me.

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