The Challenges of Life with a Cat

As you know, I am in therapy.

I am beginning to resent my therapist for not having fixed me already. I know it's not her fault, but I don't think I have to logic my way out of that feeling, so fuck off. This is what my therapist told me to do. Except for the telling people to fuck off part. That she kind of explicitly discouraged. She did tell me to allow myself to feel things, however, acknowledge that I can separate feelings from actions.

This is something I think I still don't quite have a grasp on. What's the point of being angry if you aren't going to do anything with it? What's the point of being sad if you're not going to express it in your words and actions to the person who made you sad? I'll have to ask her for further clarification, I guess. She says that if you try to pretend it's not happening at all, instead of maybe internally acknowledging the feeling and letting it pass or going to someone outside the situation to express the emotion, then it's "like a boiling pot with a lid on it. You expect the lid to keep the boiling under control..."

And, in some ways, I suppose I can see where that might come into play in my personal relationships. I recently found out my mother has cancer. She had previously suspected that she might but was putting off getting tested for some reason, and, wanting to respect her decision, I kind of put it out of my head. So, when she decided she would get tested, I assumed things would be fine because we had already agreed, through her unwillingness to get treatment, that things had to be fine. Or, suddenly she wouldn't be here, but there would be no forewarning. So, I find myself at odds with my current approach to my mother- which up until now had been pretty strictly to ignore her as much as possible, keep my guard up, and in general be a little bit miffed at all times. I knew something bad was coming, so I might as well already be emotionally prepped for that so it wouldn't actually hurt me. I don't want to really get mad at her, so I might as well start conversations by cutting her off. I rationalize all the behavior when we're away from each other though. I tell myself she had a rough time as a child. She didn't get the type of attachment mirroring that people are super big on these days, so she couldn't very well give that type of attention to me. She had to distrust people because she was on her own and could have easily been harmed as a young, single migrant worker. But as soon as I get in a room, or on the phone, with her that all gives way to preemptive frustration.

I am typically not okay with whatever emotion I am feeling. It all devolves to roaring alone in the car and beating on things and myself out of frustration. Why am I anxious?! Why the fuck am I sad?! What AM I THINKING?!

So I quickly croaked a good-bye when she told me the news, because she's never been a safe place, and began sobbing and clawing at the air in my car as though something tangible would manifest that I could mop up my sorrow with. Or, even better, something I could pull down to swallow me whole. I began to think of who was safe, and it was a short list. A lot of people had a lot of things going on, and not wanting to add more to their plates, and feeling rejected by one other person (who did not mean to make me feel that way) I ended up with Myex. He calmed me down, and made me laugh by the end of the call. It was exactly what I needed but from a place I didn't really want to go. This seems to be the current cycle- there's no where I really feel okay feeling. Nearly any expression makes me feel guilty, so what's the point? I guess sobbing by myself does help, sometimes, but it also feels really ridiculous. I've been told so many times in so many ways that it's a waste of energy. That communicating feelings without feeling them to other people is how you maintain good relationships.

Wavering between stronger manic and stunted depression episodes, I am feeling further lost in this concept. I don't know where to go in any of these relationships but perhaps to throw myself into my old manic staple of being dangerously over-sexed. Which I feel is a weird and misleading term, I doubt most people are ever truly over-sexed. Now approaching 9 months of being broken up and living alone, I still don't feel ready to date. I can't imagine what a good partnership or proper communication looks or sounds like. So that's not really an option.

But, as evidenced by this post at 12am on a work-night, I have too much energy now. I am only able to occupy so much of it with cleaning, painting, language practice and reading before I get bored. But I don't really want to be social- so do I just fall back on fucking?

That's probably not a good idea...


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