About Those Life Goals

So my visit with my grief counselor was so good today that it inspired me again to sit back down at the computer and talk at the space that exists here.

She asked me this question, "What made your mom a great mom?" I talked for a half an hour solid. I said a lot of things. I said she was a feminist in a 50s housewife's clothing. I said she taught us to think - in fact she often said it was the most important thing she EVER taught us. I talked about how she'd say "When I'm dead..." and follow it up with a thing I should do, or should have, or should remember. I talked and talked and talked. I admitted to not remembering what half of that stuff was.

The most important thing, however, the thing that was the most important thing to ME was that she believed in me. More than that, she believed we ALL could do ANYTHING. She was of the Frank Zappa school that children don't need rules about which toys are age appropriate. She believed we could be what we wanted, we were smart enough and she knew whatever it was we could do it. She TOLD us we could do it. She didn't order us to, however. But she always believed in us. She never thought we couldn't do something.

That's the part of me that's suddenly on fire. I believe I can do it. Whatever it is. For instance, I can climb up this...

So that Michele and I could do THIS...

This was actually a dual bucket list and weight loss goal for me. I've always wanted to do a zipline but I used to be too heavy for it. It was incredibly liberating to just step on the scale, knowing I totally met the criteria. It was scary up there at the top. It was scary as we stepped down one, two three steps and swung into midair. But I knew I could do it. I knew I could because my Mom knew I could.

My dad used to say "My children are fearless." He would say it with the chest beating pride of a warrior. I don't know that we're fearless. I think that in the past year we've learned what fear is, in a really terrible way. But maybe what we really are is strong.

And in addition to believing in ourselves, somehow I've realized we believe in each other.

Mom gave us this gift. This ability to think. This ability to believe. This knowledge of how important we are to one another. The ability to believe we can do it. Whatever it is.

It was a great visit. I'm going to keep going until I don't need to. I don't know if that day will ever come. One of the best things of the visit was at the end, when she asked if I was going to come back and I said yes, and she said "I'm so glad, I don't get to hear wonderful family stories that often and you have some great ones. I love hearing about your family."

And I apparently love talking about them.
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About Those Life Goals

So my visit with my grief counselor was so good today that it inspired me again to sit back down at the computer and talk at the space that exists here.

She asked me this question, "What made your mom a great mom?" I talked for a half an hour solid. I said a lot of things. I said she was a feminist in a 50s housewife's clothing. I said she taught us to think - in fact she often said it was the most important thing she EVER taught us. I talked about how she'd say "When I'm dead..." and follow it up with a thing I should do, or should have, or should remember. I talked and talked and talked. I admitted to not remembering what half of that stuff was.

The most important thing, however, the thing that was the most important thing to ME was that she believed in me. More than that, she believed we ALL could do ANYTHING. She was of the Frank Zappa school that children don't need rules about which toys are age appropriate. She believed we could be what we wanted, we were smart enough and she knew whatever it was we could do it. She TOLD us we could do it. She didn't order us to, however. But she always believed in us. She never thought we couldn't do something.

That's the part of me that's suddenly on fire. I believe I can do it. Whatever it is. For instance, I can climb up this...

So that Michele and I could do THIS...

This was actually a dual bucket list and weight loss goal for me. I've always wanted to do a zipline but I used to be too heavy for it. It was incredibly liberating to just step on the scale, knowing I totally met the criteria. It was scary up there at the top. It was scary as we stepped down one, two three steps and swung into midair. But I knew I could do it. I knew I could because my Mom knew I could.

My dad used to say "My children are fearless." He would say it with the chest beating pride of a warrior. I don't know that we're fearless. I think that in the past year we've learned what fear is, in a really terrible way. But maybe what we really are is strong.

And in addition to believing in ourselves, somehow I've realized we believe in each other.

Mom gave us this gift. This ability to think. This ability to believe. This knowledge of how important we are to one another. The ability to believe we can do it. Whatever it is.

It was a great visit. I'm going to keep going until I don't need to. I don't know if that day will ever come. One of the best things of the visit was at the end, when she asked if I was going to come back and I said yes, and she said "I'm so glad, I don't get to hear wonderful family stories that often and you have some great ones. I love hearing about your family."

And I apparently love talking about them.
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Moving On

That's a sign at my therapists office. I sat next to it and laughed a little while I waited. I'm not always the biggest on motivational stuff but I know that one happens to be a thought that rings true. That's the midwesterner in me, the mentality that you just need to suck it up and deal with what happens. I'm hardwired that way, there's just no way around it.

While I waited I stared at the ceiling and the waiting room which was actually the foyer of a really lovely craftsman style house. I'd like to live there. The patient before me was having a meltdown in the office. There was a LOT of yelling and crying, there was a lot of emotion. I hoped that wasn't requisite. I don't do big emotional displays well, again, that's a midwestern thing.

They went long, the earlier patient and the doc. I sat and watched the clock until I realized that it was stopped. Beside me was a blue book with no words on the cover. At first I thought it was the bible until I realized the words were EMBOSSED - Alcoholics Anonymous. I didn't know there was a book, so I flipped it open and read some of it. It was kind of interesting, it's not something I know anything about despite having lived with an Alcoholic my entire life.

We will call this my "I am nervous about going to therapy" face.

I went in shortly  after I took this picture.

It was amazing.

I learned some powerful things. I learned that communicating with people who love me and care about me is frustrating as shit because all of these people seem to get motivated to FIX me or the situation. There is no fix. I think it's a natural response, you don't like to see someone you love so completely sideways.  You want to make it better. You want to help someone you care about out of the hell they are in. Communicating with my therapist who just simply agreed with me how terrible it is was so incredibly refreshing. It was like catharsis. I wanted to scream YES YOU GET IT OMG YOU GET IT.

I learned that it hasn't been long enough to feel better. She asked me what was something that keeps hanging me up, or causing me heartache. I responded "Well for a long time I kept reaching for the phone to call my mom at night..."and she held up her hand and said, "A long time? It hasn't BEEN a long time..." and that hit me like a thunderbolt. God it hasn't. A million things have happened. I've traveled TWICE. But all of this JUST happened.

I also learned that I'm ok. I'm not in depression, I'm just grieving and this is all so very normal. She was really surprised by my lack of time off, my lack of stopping for a while and we both agreed that it's probably increasing my stress a little around this.

I'm going to feel less bad about being selfish with my time. I'm going to not be hard on myself when I don't quite feel like pushing myself physically, or I eat stuff I shouldn't. I need a break from everything. When I can't get that, I need a break from feeling bad when I fail.

I left there feeling empowered and strong. It was the most incredible thing I've felt in a long time. I've felt loved and cared about, I've felt empathized with and sympathized with. But I felt like I was lost and alone in the midst of all that. Suddenly I don't just from talking to her for an hour.

I have another appointment after the holidays, the first week of January. We said it was just to check in after the holidays and see how it went and we can decide our course of action then. I really feel like maybe I might keep going, if for no other reason than just to dedicate an hour a month selfishly to me.

It was amazing. I was feeling weird and nervous about it but I was wrong. It was absolutely amazing.

I really can't wait to go back.
Tweet

Moving On

That's a sign at my therapists office. I sat next to it and laughed a little while I waited. I'm not always the biggest on motivational stuff but I know that one happens to be a thought that rings true. That's the midwesterner in me, the mentality that you just need to suck it up and deal with what happens. I'm hardwired that way, there's just no way around it.

While I waited I stared at the ceiling and the waiting room which was actually the foyer of a really lovely craftsman style house. I'd like to live there. The patient before me was having a meltdown in the office. There was a LOT of yelling and crying, there was a lot of emotion. I hoped that wasn't requisite. I don't do big emotional displays well, again, that's a midwestern thing.

They went long, the earlier patient and the doc. I sat and watched the clock until I realized that it was stopped. Beside me was a blue book with no words on the cover. At first I thought it was the bible until I realized the words were EMBOSSED - Alcoholics Anonymous. I didn't know there was a book, so I flipped it open and read some of it. It was kind of interesting, it's not something I know anything about despite having lived with an Alcoholic my entire life.

We will call this my "I am nervous about going to therapy" face.

I went in shortly  after I took this picture.

It was amazing.

I learned some powerful things. I learned that communicating with people who love me and care about me is frustrating as shit because all of these people seem to get motivated to FIX me or the situation. There is no fix. I think it's a natural response, you don't like to see someone you love so completely sideways.  You want to make it better. You want to help someone you care about out of the hell they are in. Communicating with my therapist who just simply agreed with me how terrible it is was so incredibly refreshing. It was like catharsis. I wanted to scream YES YOU GET IT OMG YOU GET IT.

I learned that it hasn't been long enough to feel better. She asked me what was something that keeps hanging me up, or causing me heartache. I responded "Well for a long time I kept reaching for the phone to call my mom at night..."and she held up her hand and said, "A long time? It hasn't BEEN a long time..." and that hit me like a thunderbolt. God it hasn't. A million things have happened. I've traveled TWICE. But all of this JUST happened.

I also learned that I'm ok. I'm not in depression, I'm just grieving and this is all so very normal. She was really surprised by my lack of time off, my lack of stopping for a while and we both agreed that it's probably increasing my stress a little around this.

I'm going to feel less bad about being selfish with my time. I'm going to not be hard on myself when I don't quite feel like pushing myself physically, or I eat stuff I shouldn't. I need a break from everything. When I can't get that, I need a break from feeling bad when I fail.

I left there feeling empowered and strong. It was the most incredible thing I've felt in a long time. I've felt loved and cared about, I've felt empathized with and sympathized with. But I felt like I was lost and alone in the midst of all that. Suddenly I don't just from talking to her for an hour.

I have another appointment after the holidays, the first week of January. We said it was just to check in after the holidays and see how it went and we can decide our course of action then. I really feel like maybe I might keep going, if for no other reason than just to dedicate an hour a month selfishly to me.

It was amazing. I was feeling weird and nervous about it but I was wrong. It was absolutely amazing.

I really can't wait to go back.
Tweet