I feel as though with one hand I’m clinging to the side of a cliff face with all my might, while the other hand holds an object that I truly believe I can’t live without. The object is so heavy that if I don’t let it go, I’ll lose my grip on the cliff face. If I let go, I’ll have both hands free to pull myself up and over, but I won’t have whatever that object is, and I TRULY feel like I can’t live without it. I can’t see it, exactly, but I know it’s important.
The reality is that I know the object is the fucked-up coping mechanisms that I’ve used most of my life, and that the best thing to do would be to FUCKING LET IT GO and pull myself up and over the cliff’s edge onto safe ground.
And yet I hang on to it. Sometimes it gets so heavy that my grip on the cliff face loosens, and I slide down. Then I loosen my grip on the object so that I can focus on scrambling back up the cliff face with my other hand. But as long as I hold the object, I don’t have enough power to get up and over the top. I’m stuck there, clinging to the side of a vertical drop, until my grip loosens and I slide down again, only to scramble back up to where I started.
Two steps forward, two steps back.
I’ve been thinking lately that I haven’t had anything to write about, but really, that’s not true. I started this blog as a sort of journal so that I’d have to be accountable to something. And then people started reading it, and THEN I started to find myself putting up that facade that I use in my daily life: “I’m FINE! Everything’s FINE! Just FINE! Did I mention FINE?! I’m SO! MUCH! BETTERthanksforasking!”
I like to think I’m not a people-pleaser, and in some ways that’s true. But in other ways, I’m a SERIOUS people-pleaser. So it’s not that I really haven’t had anything to write about, it’s more that I’ve fallen into the (old) pattern of telling everyone that I’m “FINE!” There is a saying in the 12-step culture that goes something like, “FINE is an acronym for Fucked-up, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional” (or “Emotionally unstable,” depending on the version you hear). It always cracks me up, because for me, it’s the God’s honest truth. The more “FINE!” I am, the worse off I am in my head.
So I have to get back to writing about the hard stuff, “FINE” be damned. I have to get back to DOING the hard stuff, and stop sabotaging myself every chance I get.
I’m thinking of finding a therapist in LA. I haven’t been to therapy in a long time, but I seem to be stuck at the moment. I need to find some different coping mechanisms and figure out how to let the old ones go. I’m not sure when exactly I’ll be able to start seeing a therapist (moving has put a serious crimp in my budget), so it might take a while, but since I seem to be able to keep my act together for a couple of months at a time, I figure I’ve got a grace period here. If I’m just starting to get “back on track,” as it were, then I’ll need help sometime toward the end of July or August, and my finances will be more stable then. I’ve read that other folks seem to have good luck with Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT), so I might give that another go, although I didn’t have great luck with it the first time around. (Then again, I’m not sure I would have had great luck with ANYTHING at that point.)
I’ll also need to go back to the gym in the meantime. I wrote the other day about being afraid to go back, but it isn’t really that I’m afraid of what people will say. (Ok, I’m afraid of what people will say about “the fat girl who came and then quit and is coming again.”) But mostly I’m afraid of change. I’m afraid that if I change, I’ll let go of that object that I’m holding with one hand, and I REALLY NEED IT. I *don’t* actually need it, of course, but I FEEL like I do. I heard someone once say that the reason that change is scary is because our egos (in the Freudian sense, not the self-esteem sense) can’t tell the difference between transformation and annihilation. So anything that threatens the status quo is seen as dangerous and scary, and our egos fight to maintain the status quo, no matter how fucked-up the it is. So the idea of letting go of that object, of the maladaptive coping mechanisms I use, is terrifying. (I just reread that bit. I promise to stop abusing commas so thoroughly. Maybe.)
That’s where I’m at. (Man, I stop abusing commas and start abusing . . . what? Participles? Something like that.) I also think I’m going to add a page to the blog up top. A Progress page or something like that, which will not be so much about “Before” (with a sad, bare face) and and “After” (with a smiling, perfectly made-up face), because HELLO, I AM NOT A “BEFORE” PICTURE (can I get that on a t-shirt?) but more about the literal progess. As in, “here are the things I am working on today.” So if you want the truly boring minutiae, you can click over there. I’ll still keep posting here M,W,F (well, except when I jack up my own schedule and post T and Th instead).
That is all.