I hate this feeling.
Like I'm happy, but I'm not.
Like I'm trying too hard to be happy.
That I feel so many things all at once, to the point where I almost feel nothing at all.
I keep searching for a "reason" because that's what everyone wants to know, right?
There isn't one. Sometimes there just isn't one.
I have been making efforts to get out of my yearly winter slump. I haven't been isolating as much as I want to, and I have been getting out, going on drives, seeing friends, and I know that has helped.
I haven't been writing much, mainly because I have been so busy since Christmas. I brought my laptop to a local coffee shop and opened to my blog. I started writing, but after every sentence I found myself deleting words, starting from the top, having no clue what to say. It was frustrating. Often times writing is what I can count on, it helps me to feel stable, and less alone. When my fingers freeze above the keys I feel very very lost. I could feel the frustration fuming and my eyes becoming glossy. I slid my laptop into its case and walked back to my car after 15 minutes of looking out the cafe window. My mom had called me, asking if I could pick up my stranded brother at a shopping plaza on my way home. I didn't give her a full answer, and I hung up the phone after a long silence. I have been so sensitive to the little things lately and I don't know what is going on with me. I took a long way home and drove some roads that really didn't make sense to go on. I was fighting tears and I just felt so awful and empty and sad and the worst part was that I had no idea why. "Not knowing what to blog about" didn't seem to cut it. No, it had to be more than that.
As much as it seems like I should not be alone at times like these, I have learned that these are my moments to recharge. I cry, I jump to conclusions, I get irritable, but then I go for a drive, grab a snack, take a nap, and recharge.
When I got home I tried my best to bite my tongue. When I don't feel well, all that comes out it is attitude and I was trying to prevent that. If I snap my mom and I will just fight and I will feel worse. I couldn't have that happen. I told my mom I just needed to rest so I knew I would be alone. I took a nap and a few hours later I was calm and back to myself again.
That is what I call my "recharge."
I was so proud of myself after last week's therapy appointment. I talked a lot, and did a good job at explaining what was on my mind. I was prepared as well, I had emailed her a word document prior to the appointment, so in case I was choking on my words, I would have something to turn to. She read through my writing, telling me we could go back to some things next week.
Today's appointment, didn't go so great. I showed up, but I had no idea what to talk about. I began talking about a challenge she had given me the week before, and why it was difficult for me to complete. I expected I would have more words about it, but I guess I no longer found them necessary. So the question came, "What do you want to talk about today?" and I let the dreaded words "I don't know" slip. I let her babble, and I had my short responses and I could feel my face getting heavy, knowing she could tell.
"I know you want me to just keep talking for you, but this is your session." She smiled, and I know she was giving me permission to just open up about whatever, but I had nothing. I felt stuck.
I have been reading articles on Psychology Today trying to find any ways I can to improve in therapy and get the most out of it. One thing I have been working on is taking the time as my own and saying whatever is on my mind and being more open, and having trust. I have been working outside of therapy, so that I can get down to business in therapy.
Some days, it is easier for me than others.
I just started crying, and I hate crying in front of people. She asked if I wanted to sit in silence for a while and I agreed. I just sat there awkwardly wiping my tears and biting my lip when a thought popped up.
I know that I shouldn't be hard on myself in these moments. I know it is okay to cry, okay not to be okay, okay not to know, okay to feel whatever you feel, okay to sit in silence, but I did not want that.
I want therapy to help me so I can stop feeling so poorly all the time. I want to use that time to work on me so that I can help me, and I can not do that when I sit there not knowing what to say, shutting down and struggling to wake myself up, and just crying when I feel embarrassed, overwhelmed, or uncomfortable.
I often feel like there is something wrong with me. It is hard to help another person understand me, when I hardly understand me.
It is hard feeling so tired all the time. My personality screams energy, yet my soul seems sad and tired. Exhausted.
I have been hiding from the blogging world lately because I have been feeling off though I have been active and happy and smiley as well. Writing always helps me, so this post here may not be one I am excited about sharing, but I am doing this for my own self care.
All I can do is just wait because this too shall pass.
A Boston social work student, using writing for healing. Sharing the peaks and valleys of an empath's mental health journey.