"What would you do if you weren't afraid?" Over the summer, while I was going through some difficulty, my friend Celia gave me this phrase. It's from the "Who Moved the Cheese" book which I've yet to read. I'll have to pick it up sometime. But this morning, as I was trudging through some old e-mails and Blog postings, I thought of it.
This is a bit personal. I'm not sure why I share these details with, literally, the world but for whatever reason it helps me feel better. Call it what you may. I can only censor to a degree, when it's regarding other individuals in my life. For me, it's different.
I had an enlightening therapy appointment yesterday. "Am I crazy?" I asked him. Knowing full well I wasn't; I just wanted validation. He told me if he had to diagnosis me with anything it would be situational depression, that is brought on by outside influences but goes away when the problems pass, and a bit of anxiety, in particular around relationships, coupled with trust issues that stem from my past with X. So I guess in the DSM book, I'm not all that loony. I asked him about drugs, not that I want to go on any but more for his feedback. He mentioned I would probably benefit from some mild anti-anxiety medicine but, being that my issues are more situational, on my own, I should be able to work through my issues.
After leaving I felt better knowing that most of my anxiety is fear based and irrational then as the day progressed I became more anxious than usual. I began asking myself questions like, is this feeling based on an irrational fear from X or not? Or maybe I'm just irrational in general.
I started to relive the past. For example, the day after we had a civil union in 2003, X told me he didn't love me and wanted to leave. He took his ring off but then a week later it was back on. Or there was the time we came home from a romantic dinner, a bit tipsy, and while I was upstairs getting ready for bed he disappeared. I called his name throughout the house, I thought he was somewhere passed out cold. Bandit was outside barking so I knew X went outside. It was a warm summer night. Perhaps he fell into the neighbors pool or something. I was irrational. I spent a good hour or two, in a panic, looking for him till I discovered the cordless phone missing. From the base, I was able to redial the last number called. He answered, in bed in the arms of another. He had phoned his fling to pick him up out front of our house. They even took the cordless phone with them. Feeling used and scared, I went to bed alone and cried myself to sleep. Of course, in his own deluded mind, a week later, he was crazy in love with me. So last night, as I'm trying to focus on the present, these thoughts ran through my head.
Why did I put up with this stuff? I was willing to put up with it because I loved him, or so I thought. When in reality I didn't feel I deserved any better, couldn't get any better. On several levels, I felt like I needed him, financially, emotionally etc. I rationalized it over and over till I couldn't take it anymore and we got divorced.
It wasn't till yesterday, in talking through some of these issues, that I realized how unconsciously this stuff still lingers, still hurts and still effects me. I guess that's what therapy is all about: reaching into the uncomfortable and pushing it forward. I don't want it to interfere anymore.
I've moved forward. I look at my glass as half full. As for my cheese? I enjoy the taste of a new kind.