I spent my therapy session with Jill yesterday a blathering mess of emotionally sticky tears. I told her about the post, about not doing anything or moving forward. I also confessed to watching two episodes of “Grey’s Anatomy,” that had me in an even bigger, sticky, emotionally messy situation as well. Apparently, I am still not as well equipped to handle feelings as I would like. I’m getting better, but still no pro.
It seems that I’ve been working working working, schooling schooling schooling, for the past six months and this working/schooling combo has helped to stave off any emotional upheaval that may have come to rise. By staying in motion, by being in life, part of it, part of the giant whirlwind that is life, I can stay very much in my brain and very much disconnected from my heart. This disconnection, Jill says, is a difficult thing to manage. A little thing called balance. The more equipped I become at handling life, the more equipped I can become at handling my emotions. The next step is integrate these two things into a nice smooth ride instead of the rollercoaster of up and down’s I’m feeling now. And not rollercoaster in a manic or bi-polar way. Just in an up and down sort of way.
My dad leaving is very bittersweet. I am terribly sad. But I wouldn’t be terribly sad if I didn’t have the wonderful relationship to be grateful for, to miss. Thinking of it brings tears. Welling up in eyes. Changing subject.
My mom makes me very sad. She recently said she is sober again. Hearing this excites me, and the excitement must be shelved for protection and self-preservation. I can’t write about it because fear of her reading and becoming upset. She can’t seem to understand when I write about her, I am actually writing about the way I feel, and not the way she makes me feel. They are separate feelings, and she can’t quite grasp that.
The notion that I have trouble working, schooling, living and feeling, all at once, makes me sad. Don’t people do this all the time? Isn’t it like putting your shoes on in the morning? You do it once and you can do it everyday forever? Why can’t I seem to put on my goddamn shoes?
Watching Grey’s made me sad. Mr. Man had started watching it while I was away with my sister, and the other night we sat down for a few episodes. My personal preference when it comes to entertainment is the variety where guns and explosions take place of love and crying. These two episodes pertained to father/daughter relationships, and the life/death of one father in particular. I couldn’t quit crying. It was. HORRIBLE. The death was nothing, regular, Mr. Man tried to be comforting, but the stupid show was so triggering I excused myself to the bathroom for face-washing and nose-blowing. Stupid show. I told Mr. Man I’d never watch that stupid show again and that I hated him for making me watch something that would make me cry. Then I hid under the covers and cried until I fell asleep. Completely absurd. Jill asked if I let him comfort me, saying that is a nice thing to let your partner do. I reminded her of the irrationality of my tears, brought on by a stupid show about really good looking doctors, and she had to remind me it had nothing to do with the show. Which made me cry even more.
So, with the crying, with the absurdity of tears and stagnation and sitting at a desk uploading pictures to send off in emails, I am ready to move on with this day. To move through the feelings. To keep the feelings in motion instead of shoving them down inside into a small black terrible little ball of angry sorrowful death. I am ready.