It's been pretty obvious and I can't even attempt to hide it. I've been in a pretty foul mood this last couple of days.
On a better day, I might choose to see this as a sign of how far I've come. I'm rather "present" in this uncomfortable space. I'm not in denial to myself or others. I'm not trying to numb myself and am increasingly aware how inadequate a measure that is (especially where excess consumption of red wine and chocolate or impulse shopping is involved). I can't even say that I'm being hard on myself for feeling this way.
I've seen that there's a better way. I've experienced what it is to have a clear head and a light heart, and to feel centred and strong within myself. I have loved my life, with all its imperfection. I have loved my self, with all my flaws. I am working hard towards this way of being. I know there will come a time when I feel like that most of the time.
But right now, I am seriously crapped off about the reality of getting there. It is going to be damn hard and scarily unpretty.
My therapist called me on something on Monday night. We'd been chatting about a range of stuff, the usual stuff really, and I added something into the mix that I'd remembered that I thought might be relevant. Turns out, it was a big thing. And we were just about out of time. And she seemed surprised or exasperated or disappointed or maybe none of these things but I got really defensive. And she challenged me. And then it was time for me to leave.
In between crying -- and, for the first time ever, wanting to throw the towel in -- I reminded myself that one of the reasons I really love this therapist is that she's not averse to showing me some tough love every now and again. It's always appropriate, never confrontational (although often confronting), and usually something I can handle. But I also couldn't deny that I felt chastened and exposed, and daunted by the work that lies ahead.
There's nothing else for it, I suspect, than to ride it out then show up next Monday. Then keep showing up.
But forgive me if I am not especially good value between now and then. Right now, I'm a bit sick of working on myself, and resentful that I'm built this way. I'm not suggesting this is the most mature or constructive approach, or that it's fair on my nearest and dearest. But it's the only way I can claim where I am right now.
This week, I invite you to claim where you are. If it's not an especially nice place, I would like to stand next to you, hold your hand and encourage you to stay with it for a moment. Let's decide not to pretend and just be our most resentful, immature, bored, exasperated selves. Maybe we could listen to those tiny voices that reassure us that these feelings will pass and that everything really will be OK. Or maybe we could rebel and ignore them for a bit.
Maybe our inner good girl -- the one who always strives to improve herself, the one who works so hard to remember to be grateful, the one who tries to find a glimmer of hope or learning in every difficult experience -- deserves to chuck a stroppy tantrum for a change.
You are worthy of this sort of space. The least prettiest aspects to your personality -- the ones you are least proud of -- are worthy of airing.
And you know what? In among all the ungrateful immature stroppiness I can tell you this much: you are deserving of love anyway.