I’m still going to the gym! People have told me I look like I’m losing weight. But I can’t see it! I’m so impatient for results. I went to see my GP to see if maybe she could prescribe some pills. Apparently there’s only one brand available in NZ and it’s dangerous with the medication I’m on. Gutted. The GP told me I can’t expect to lose weight like a normal person because of my history with medication and an under active thyroid. So the frustration continues. At least I’m enjoying my gym sessions.
I feel that after discussion with my CPN, my baseline is lower than I’d hoped. I’m actually quite a miserable person! At least I’m not technically depressed.
I’m still interviewing for jobs. I’ve had a couple of offers actually. Neither of them really appealed and I want to be sure that I’m taking on a job that I really want and feel passionate about. That said, I’m getting sick of my financial restraints. I’m struggling all the time. It’s so frustrating when Steve is living like a king and I’m here with nothing, struggling to make ends meet. I have made plans the last few weekends and although it’s been great to be social – I really can’t afford it.
But none of this is why I actually started this blog entry.
Today I had a really intense therapy session. I verbalised my shame over something’s I’ve done and the part I played with this cop that’s still under investigation. I actually talked about my shame and my disgust. I cried, I hurt, I put it all out there. My confusion, my anger, my vulnerability. My deep rooted sadness. My chest clenched so tightly with anxiety that it hurt, it literally hurt to breathe. Then I got this painful ache in my stomach. My whole body was reacting. I’ve not talked in so much detail about my own behaviour and my own shame. My therapist was pleased that I felt in a place to actually talk about these things. To start healing. Although I felt I was exposing a broken part of me, my therapist told me that it was time I honoured all these feelings and it denotes strength. I thought about that as I drove to pick up the kids. To be honest if I wasn’t on call for the kids, I would have dedicated some more time to thoughts and feelings. Which is something I usually try to avoid. I hate feeling uncomfortable. The therapist told me I should be kind to myself and I should forgive myself for thinking so badly of myself. It’s interesting that she worded it that way. Forgive myself for thinking badly of me – not, forgive myself for my behaviours.
I feel like something shifted in me today. Or at least is gradually shifting. I’m thinking about things on a far deeper level and it’s for no other reason than for myself. I want to be the best version of myself; which means facing some home truths and things that are uncomfortable.
It’s a bit like the gym, I’m doing that for me. So that I can feel good, and have my time to clear my head. Therapy is doing that to my insides. Or better yet, I’m doing it for myself.
It’s still difficult not having someone to discuss all this with. I do feel lonely but I know that Steve isn’t the person I can talk to about things. He’s not my person, and never will be. I don’t resent him as much as I have. I see how we’re such different people with such different needs. It’s hard to be angry with someone when you’re more focussed on sorting out your own life.
And that’s really where I’m at now, trying to become a more authentic person so that I can be a better mother/friend. There is so much more I need to work on, I need to grieve over, I need to move on from. I feel like I’m finally getting all the tools, I just need to do the work.
I’m taking life day by day. Trying not to over think things, trying not to waste energy on the things I can’t control.
I can’t say I’m a fully revised version of myself! Just someone that wants peace, to be true to herself and to be a great mum.