I have undoubtedly been having a difficult time as of late.
It is a lot of things, truthfully. Relationships are hard. I am at this point where I am so cognizant of the things that I do automatically (like talking to myself negatively) and yet, I cannot quite get to a point where I can stop doing that.
For example–I know I shouldn’t rely on other people for my worth. I know that can lead to a lot of emptiness and that it subjects me to the whims of other people. Yet, I still feel a lot. I worry about my relationships. I internalize negative beliefs about myself in my marriage (for example, I am not sexy enough. I am fat. I can’t turn my husband on because I am gross). I worry about abandonment and the inevitable moment when people that I love will see me the way that I see me…and then I will lose them.
I worry about being alone.
And yet…I also know that, to be healthy, I shouldn’t worry about any of these things.
It. Is. Frustrating. Continue reading
I can’t feel anything small.
For the last month or so, right on track for the last two years, I have been hit with the winter blues.
Or, I don’t know, perhaps it is something more.
It’s that deep, dark hole.
The one where I stand at the bottom, looking up at the light, unable to climb out on my own. Continue reading
So, despite my recent case of the winter blues, I have continued to read my latest self-help book, Daughter Detox: Recovering from an Unloving Mother and Reclaiming Your Life, by Peg Streep.
Chapter 6 is a chapter I had been eagerly anticipating–it discusses the hidden obstacles within the unloved daughter–those unconscious patterns of behaviors…that hidden “script” that our bodies–our emotions–automatically flip to when we react.
I have been fighting this unconscious script since I started therapy two years ago–I’ve gotten really good at identifying the patterns and the behaviors, but I have continually asked myself: HOW? How do I STOP hearing the mean voice? Or panicking at the thought of messing up and losing someone? Or ____? Continue reading
Bump. Blip. Hurdle. Stumble.
Call it what you want.
Here, I am. Continue reading