Not Looking Back

2014 has been a long year! It's had its ups and downs, good and bad ... in all reality, the year seemed to shrug along until these last few months. It was easy peasy, followed by WTF? Why does it seem that the end of the year is the most stressful? Maybe Christmas plays a part in that. The stress of visiting family, gift shopping, bank accounts dwindle a little or a lot, so there comes that worry too.

It's almost over though. Just need to hang in a little while longer, and hope like hell that the new year coming holds a lot less stress. 

I made resolutions last year ... I only stuck to a few. Was disappointed I didn't follow through on some and happy as hell I did on others. 

This year ... I do not think that I will make a resolution. I think I will simply give this year a theme and try to do something within that theme. 

I saw a quote the other day ... I think I will make my Facebook cover the picture I found. It said

"Don't follow your dreams, Chase them." 

Needless to say, it sparked the theme for this year. Chase my dreams. Funny how I used to think I had so many and as soon as I made that my theme, I was at a loss on where to start. 

Things that I love things I dream I will someday do. OR be better at. 

Photography:  I keep seeing these "A pic a day for a year." things. I think I want to do it,  I do not think that I want to put them on websites other than maybe Facebook or Instagram.. But I do think that I will make a special album and shoot things that I find beauty in. I haven't been shooting for fun much lately, seems it is work related only, and I think that has put a sort of damper on my soul because of it. Looking at my camera, something that once inspired excitement now barely musters a *Meh :/ * feeling. I honestly think it contributes slightly to my depression. I miss it. 

Writing: While I was happy that I published three stories this past year (2 children stories) and 1 cookie cutter short story. I still can not help but feel disappointment. Mainly because I am not happy with Fertilizer. Why? Because it gave everything away too soon. Probably because it was written more like a tale someone was telling of something that once happened rather than a mystery. It was bugging me so bad that It inspired a way to fix it .... I can not really go into too much detail, because I am superstitious and I do not want to give it away. I can say, that one more cookie cutter short story tied in with the last one, followed by one that ties ALL THREE into each other (With a twist) is on its way. (I have been working on things that I plan on publishing under different names (for my own personal reasons) -- aka, they are sexual in nature and I do not want people to type my name looking for a kids book and coming up with porn. (or porn like nature) My writing this year ... there is a plan! I am actually excited about this plan, Especially since I created my little writing room. 

Color Run: I have always wanted to join in on a 5K run/walk/jog  ... I just never really got around to it. This year, that dream is going to come true. Silly as it sounds ... I wanna run, I want people to splash colors on me, and I want to get sweaty and gross and be surrounded by people I do not know who want to do the same. Maybe that is what I long for. To be surrounded. But without having to interact. Smiles, nods of like minded people who just want to do this damned run to say they did then go home and take a shower is all I need. There is one in Fayetteville this year. I have already signed up with the vip email thingy that will let me know when I can set my place in stone!. My sister Jen will be doing it too ... so I have that push to go through with it. 

The picture up there is something I shot just using my basic Samsung Galaxy 4 ... Nothing special, but while sitting in the passenger side seat, watching the road drift behind me, it simply reminded me that, the past is behind me and I am still moving forward.  (Looking back in the rear-view mirror, I realized that it wasn't at all as interesting as what was ahead. "Kind of a kick in the face to tell me to stop thinking about all the shit that happened this year and look forward to the possibilities that lie ahead."

My sister Lonna is coming to visit today and quite honestly I should be cleaning. I am excited to see her and her Richie, and their two children.  My sis Bree and her two kiddos will be coming over too. 

Normally, On new years, I try to be asleep when the ball drops. Superstitious that maybe just maybe if I am asleep I will have a year of being well rested ahead of me. It hasn't worked yet. This year, having two of my sisters here (We just need Jackie now) I am thinking things a little differently. Maybe its not such a bad thing to let a little fun into my life, one sleepy day out of a year following, really isn't the end of the world. 

I have no idea what this year will hold ... but I do know what theme I have chosen. My stubborn ass will do my best to stick with it. 

Whether you guys out there make resolutions or not ... I hope that yous have a happy new year! Thanks for stopping by and listening to me blab xoxoxoDee

Day 2 (Shrinkage) Also (Overhills High school Band- part of performance)

I was wrong, totally wrong. There was no clock where I had been sitting. I noticed that right away as I entered the room for the second time. Was I totally blind? Couldn't I tell a painting from a clock? Or did fear of rejection play a part in creating the illusion that I did in fact see a clock? I really should start wearing my glasses.
Either way ... There was no clock.
I guess when she had been looking over there, she had just been staring off. Most likely taking in what I was saying. I had just let my low self esteem to convince myself that she was watching the time.

There was no notebook this time either. No notes jotted down. That was a welcomed relief. She just sat there and listened. It was just a conversation between two people.

I found this trip easier. Maybe because I had already gotten my pent up aggravation out, with one crazy moment, standing in the middle of my bedroom, howling at the top of my lungs. No words, no curses ... just the blood curdling scream of my annoyance followed by the deep intake of air from lost breath.

This time felt ... well, it felt lighthearted. I absolutely adore her. Maybe its because I feel like she is the help I need. She holds that key to figuring out what exactly is irking me into being someone totally different than I feel I am. Or maybe its because I have an uncanny ability to fill the void of things lacking in my life and she fills one of those holes. She is motherly in a way. It is a comfort. Makes it easy to open up to her.

I noticed a change in me this round.

I wasn't nervous. There was no foot-tapping. No nail biting, no anxiety of what was to come. Just the vision of a welcoming friendly face as Jan turned the corner. I have been here, I have done this, I knew I was okay.

We talked. Or I did most of the talking, It was lighthearted for the most part. I mean, there were things that came up that were a little more broody than others. Thankfully she reads me well enough to know those things should be dealt with later. She simply reads the unspoken me and I like that.

One thing I would like to point out that I had stated in my first blog (is) They do not just tell you made up stories. They do not use others stories as their own as a tool to help you open up. (I asked her about this.) They will not tell you stories that are not their own, without first telling you that they have worked with someone who is going through (what ever the story goes through.) Trust that they are opening up to you as they are encouraging you to do with them. Or- at least the good ones are. I can only speak from what I am experiencing. She is one of the good ones and I am very fortunate that I get to work with her.

She had mentioned to maybe write down things that you are thankful for, on my first visit when I had brought up journal'ing and mentioned that I literally cried when I was faced with a blank page when I gave myself the assignment to write down things that make me happy. She suggested, things I am thankful for because sometimes finding things you are thankful for is easier than pinpointing a reason for happiness. I would write that I am thankful I gave this a chance, even when most of me struggled to be okay with it. With accepting I needed help. I am thankful for her. I have only seen her twice now, but already in such a short amount of time, as a person, as me. I feel a little better. That hope for making things tolerable and on their way to content, happy even ... gets a little stronger each visit. I'm thankful for that among so many more things.

This visit was a good visit. There were smiles, a few bits of laughter. I do not know if she laughed out with me, or if it was only my laughter that filled the room, but I do know I saw her smile.
I just know that in that moment, I have felt the most content I have felt in a very long time. I felt comfortable and content.

It also felt good to have something good to talk about. Be it bragging about Britts Christmas concert I was going to get to see her rock that night (which the video attached is just a small bit of that-- it wouldn't allow me to upload a whole songs worth - Darned restrictions) Or when I brought up Erins logic, on why she thought when she was angry, she should scream too -- after witnessing me lose my shit. Or even the moment in which I was standing there screaming, Out of breath and getting a grip I realized Avery was beside me screaming too - smiling while doing so. and How even in a moment of weakness- I couldn't help but smile at how cute that was. It felt damned great to be able to see some of the reasons I had to smile, instead of only focusing on all the bad. Feels good to know that you are not being negative, in at least a small moment.

She said something that got me to thinking, and I still am not sure how I feel about it. But it got me to thinking. She says a lot that gets me thinking. Which I think is a huge part of this process.

She asks -- Do you have a lot of friends that you do things with outside of your home.

I had to think that one through. I have friends. I see them rarely. But they are there. I do not do things with them on a regular basis, be it because I feel like a lot of my friends have a lot of drama, or the fact that I feel like, I barely have enough time for a bubble bath without interruption, how am I to make time for that too?

I feel like I am so limited on time as it is. I need that left over time to focus on things that I want. along with time for my family. I do not have time for friends. As sad as that sounds. That sentence alone makes me sad and concerned.

They say -- make time for yourself. Which is what I am doing when I use that time to do things I want, like blog, write, etc.
Am I doing it wrong?

I have text friends, (I make time when life allows it to text) I have facetime friends (that again when life allows I find time to see their smiling faces) I have social media friends (that unfortunately do to my continued growing lack of interest for social media - puts distance towards those friends) But I do make some time for even those friends. Do I have to go out too? Can't I just have some people over once a month and call it a day? It gets exhausting having life, kids, husband, wants etc. To have to also make sure that you see friends weekly. I simply do not have time for that. AFreakingParently, I am not very good at managing time. Do I really have to set aside time to go out and do things with friends? Am I being selfish if I choose not to? Is me not going out for a random (girls night out) Contributing to my pent up frustration?
I think I will make a note of that and ask her net time I see her.

My blogs these days seem more like diary entries, and maybe to an extent they are. I see them as a way into my thoughts, even thoughts - that are unclear to me. Maybe I have said something here that can answer a future question I may have. Maybe it simply lets me feel like I'm getting it all out. (you would think and hour of talking to a psychiatrist would be enough, but apparently I'm living up to my last name.

What ever it is ... I embrace it. I feel a little more like me. How I used to be. Which is funny, seeing how I still feel so far from what I feel I am. (I also find it funny that I have no idea what I meant by that, but I am leaving it , in case I realize what I meant later.)

Step by step -- I'm getting there.

I hope that anyone who is reading this ... has a great day. I hope that if you are going through something similar  Well, then I hope its going well for you, xxDee

Shrinkage

Okay, so in a attempt to free myself, from the mundane task of taking medicine. I conceded to seeing a doctor. Not your everyday, run of the mill, I have the flu doctor. But a head doctor. A shrink.

I have not seen a shrink since my younger years. I was a rebellious asshole going through things no child ever should, and to be frank ... I did not give it a chance. I snubbed my nose at it. Refused to participate in a circle discussion with strangers I didn't know, who were undoubtedly going through very different things from what I was. I did not want to share my very private, very intimate problems with people I did not know, people I did not care to know, and people I did not trust. Forget the fact that half the people in the group were grown ass men and I was a young girl dealing with rape.

Needless to say, flashbacks of this time flooded my mind during the drive to their office to try this once again. I honestly didn't know what to expect. I didn't know what to think or feel. I had movie versions of what it could be like dancing in my brain, and I didn't enjoy any of their moves.

I figured though, that there are tons of people out there like me. People who shrug off that type of medical tools. People who gasp in tones of "Yeah right." when people swear it helps. I thought to myself, these same people might be in my same boat, on their way, not knowing what to expect and a little nervous. So I am giving my blow by blow play of how it all went out, to give someone out there a breath of "It's going to be alright, it really isn't as bad as we think, and that all in all, it really hurts nothing."

I get there. There's not many people in the waiting room. Just a few. There are doctors (shrinks) or whatever, in and out of the waiting area. My mind instantly starts sizing them up. 

First up, an overly happy- annoy the hell out of anyone not high on drugs, woman enters. Immediately I glance at nick. "FUCK NO!" I mouth to him. Fully prepared to book it out of there if she's going to be the one they hand me over to. I simply have no patience for an over the top, in your face, bubbly, fake of a twit. 

Next up ... A man. First I only hear him. "That man is a weirdo." I can not see him, but already I know he has the constipated look of an asshole!
I'm right. 
He walks past, smug and arrogant. Besides the obvious fact that this man talks shit about people, out in the open. (Who knows what he says about his patients.) He is a man, I would never willingly open myself up to a man. I get a genuine paranoia when forced to tell anything intimate to a guy.

Then comes a tall, classy, very well put together woman. Maybe in her early thirties. Her face, some what snide and snooty. I'm thinking -no, I really do not want this one.  I was willing to try. I doubt that she is the right fit for me. But I will try. 

Hope gets a little brighter, when a tall blonde, a little older than me maybe but not by much woman bends down to talk to a kid seated next to me in the waiting area. 
She's kind. She has an approachable and accepting face. At that moment, I hope out of all the ones I have seen, that its her. She is not the complete package. I don't feel like we will click instantly. But by far -- she is the best option! 

My knee is bobbling up and down, I am twiddling my thumbs when I am not biting my nails. I'm a fidgety fucking mess. Suddenly, I hear -- "Are you Diane?" 

I look over and up. There is a sweet, friendly Okay I can do this Face. She's in her late forties. Early fifties. Instantly as my hand meets hers and she introduces herself as Jan
I just know.
Every vibration in my being screams,  I'm okay, this is okay. I automatically like her. 

I get into the room. It's nothing like I expected. I thought, dark and moody maybe. But it wasn't. It was open and light. The colors bright and cheerful. 

She tells me right away that she will be sitting in this chair, and asks if the couch is okay. 

The couch is big and fluffy, too tall for my short legs, but it is comfy. I grab one of the pillows and put it in my lap. I always do this. Because I am insecure and for some reason, holding a pillow makes me feel better. 

Before arriving, I imagined myself, crossed arms, tight lipped and annoyed. But the words just spilled from my mouth like an open milk carton pouring its contents into a glass. I didn't tell her my whole story. There was no need to. This was only an initial visit. She did how ever get key portions. 

There were a few things she said that made things click ... things that made you just know. 

I hate assumptions. I say this in guilt, knowing that, I, just as much as those around me, resort to assuming. But still ... I hate them! 

She never once came across as, mind guru who you cannot deny. She never said - "When I see you next time, or  next time you come in. Those words coming for a stranger assuming that I would in fact like to see them again would have come off as smug, arrogant. The, I know I am great and you know it too temperament, really gets under my skin. 
To my surprise she repeated more than a few time IF you choose to work with me. That meant a great deal to me. That she didn't just assume that I wanted to. 

Another thing that matters most to me is that she is willing to see if we can do all of what ever the hell it is that I need WITHOUT medicine! At least at first she would say. 

I admit when I first started talking, I held in. We know me, or at least the people who keep up with me. I curse like a sailor, and I am an ass. 
I was so proud of me though. Ten minutes in and I haven't cursed not once! HUGE for me! I am respectful. She's older, she is there to help. Why go off and scream out obscenities at her. 

THEN she asked ... Well, what exactly did you say? 

I looked at the ceiling then. Like it had the magic words to say what I truly said without spewing nastiness into the place I was feeling a bit less awkward in. I felt like. Here we go. Things are going to get weird now. She's going to think I am an ass with a bad mouth and send me on my way. 
I couldn't find, fake better words. So blah, just vomited from my face. Shit, ass, fucking. etc. Pretty much, most of the words in the English language that we have deemed "Bad." 

She didn't turn me away. She didn't seem the least bit shocked. In a way. It was freeing. I no longer had to put up the front that I was prim and proper. She knew, I had the mouth of a sailor and obviously a temper to boot. She really had quite a lot of insightful things to say. 

One of the best things she said was that we were not going to focus, or make me repeat all the hellish memories of my step father being a rapist douche bag, or the way I was brought up, or how living on the streets while being a run away was terrifying and how that could have done the most damage to me. "Why is that best?" Because In my own opinion, therapists who are ready to place blame on those things, without being willing to discover all possible paths to the true root of the problem, seem, well ... they seem like assholes! I love that she said, UNLESS she feels that its the root of the problem of why I am feeling the way I feel now, then will will let it lie still. 

I felt safe with her. (which is why I will tell you now) If you go to someone, and they do not fit, do not settle. I saw so many of those shrinks that day that I knew without a doubt that I would have trouble with. Feeling comfortable is a huge part of this kind of (hate to say it because it sounds so cliche) but ... recovery.  With her, everything flowed effortlessly. That is how it should be. Should feel like an everyday conversation. Easy peasy stuff (at least for the initial visit, it might get a little harder when you delve into what the problem is.) but at first, Simple. At least that is what it was for me, and I can only write what I know. DO NOT SETTLE! 

She opened up to me too -- I like that! That it wasn't only about me. That is what made it feel like, just a conversation rather than someone judging your scale of mental health. She told me personal things. Whether or not they were stories she's heard from others like me that she is using to her advantage at that particular moment, or her own. It helped to hear them. I felt better able to open up myself. 

She did keep looking at the clock and I found myself more than twice wondering if she found me boring, or annoying and just wanted me gone. She invited me back, so I couldn't have been all that bad. Or maybe I am some sort of sick entertainment. 

I find it funny -- seriously, I sat on that couch watching her eyes dark to whatever was behind me. Instantly, I was thinking... Does she keep looking at the clock? I almost turned to look, but I didn't want her to know that I was curious about that. I do not know why it was important she not know that I was wondering if she was watching the time, but it was. I only had my suspicions confirmed on my way out when I took a peak over my shoulder. 
My sister says they do this, because there is a time limit, they have to watch the time so their next appointment doesn't wait, or because maybe they are so lost in it, that perhaps they are simply checking that time hasn't gotten away from them. 

Another thing I found myself weary over, was the notebook. When they sit and listen and sit and listen and then you say something that you are no longer sure if it sounds sane, can not remember your exact wording, because now, all of your focus is set on the fact that they are jotting down something about you. I am a very curious person, the thought that she has done that a few times, and the knowledge that I still do not know what she wrote is eating me up a little. 
Does she think I am crazy? 

Anyways ... My husband asked. "Do you feel better?" 

I had to think for a moment then ... I didn't feel better. I felt -- Hopeful. 

It wasn't the worst experience in my life, and honestly I find myself rather thankful that I go again next week. 
Whatever it is that is wrong with me, what ever it is that I can't seem to get completely under control -- It may or may not get better. In the end though, I feel hopeful. 

And what is hope, other than a step in the right direction of (potential better.)

Lessons learned, Do not base what you think the outcome will be off a moment in the past that in truth you never gave the chance.
That it is okay to need to talk to someone, to vent, rant and rage. That it actually is quite beneficial to have someone on the outside, someone you do not see everyday. someone unbiased to anything involved. Someone who can give fresh perspective. Who doesn't get offended. Trust me, you rant to your husband because he might be being an asshole and one or two things might very well push a button straining the air and causing problems.

I will not go into detail about what we talked about, I will however say ... that even in just that one visit, I saw some things I was seeing rather negatively ... in a new light.

Hope anyone who came over to see me today, has a good day! xxDee