Another round of Therapy Thursday, on the books. It's never good when I get there and find padding in the elevator. It's like they are expecting me. Like, when the doors open on the top floor, two men wearing oven mitts, a bee-keeper outfit, a lasso and a straight jacket will be waiting. This is what I picture. And yes, sometimes I hear circus music, too.
I sat in the waiting room and scrolled through Facebook. A lot of bad news. A shooting, pony drama for my sister and other people we know, people frustrated with other mean people. I had already been very teary the last couple of days and this didn't help. It's not good when you are crying before you even go in for therapy. I started out by telling the Rug Doctor that it had been a rough couple of weeks with doctor visits, etc. I then told her about the dream I had last night. I dreamed that I was herding sheep, a big herd on this grassy hillside. The sheep were unruly and running all over in the river, in the bog, up the hill. And, there was shit everywhere, but not sheep shit, it was like goose shit. And it was EVERYWHERE. I tried to walk through it without stepping in it, but I couldn't avoid it. My good dog, Spanky, was there, too. I needed to go to the bathroom, so I headed to the main structure on this property. It wasn't my house, or work, I don't know what it was. The bathrooms were totally ghetto and I didn't feel safe in there. Then I woke up. The Rug Doctor said, "I hope you see how crystal clear that is." I just looked at her. I had a few theories. She went on and said something to the effect of, "You are surrounded by shit. It's at work, in your personal life, within yourself and you can't get away from it, no matter how hard you try, it's everywhere. Spanky is there as a reminder that some shit you don't mind, because you know it comes with what you love, and the bathrooms, well, you can't even deal with your own shit because of all the shit."
The Rug Doctor went on to talk about how it is hard for empathetic, caring people that are care-givers, they take everything on. Really, that is why I have to be Angry Pony behind the keyboard. While I enjoy being there for my friends and family, I absorb the stress and become angry about the injustices of life. That anger has to go somewhere. I'm pissed off, not only for me, but for others when life is unfair and it becomes easier to focus on the injustices of it all. The irony of seeking happiness as Angry Pony is not lost on me. Grasping the positive and moving forward seems impossible. There is no Pinterest self-induced positive bullshit here. Don't come looking for it, because you won't find it.
We talked about other things that have been weighing heavily on my mind and how my mood has been making life more challenging. The number of times I press the snooze alarm, the length of time it takes me to leave the house, my reluctance to face the day, being late for work...throwing my badge at the file cabinet and making my boss scurry past my desk like a mouse in a house fire. (It does kind of make me laugh when his entire body is within the safety of the office and his head is stretched out around the corner to talk to me. He's like a turtle ready to retreat into it's shell.) I shared with her that the beginning of each day feels like an obligation to do the right thing, say the right thing, make the right choices, ensure everyone takes care of business, whether that is at work or at home. I have to think about what I'm going to eat, how my body feels, can I make it to the gym? Each day a chance at failure and each day that becomes a failure is then relived the following morning as I get on the scale or avoid the scale all-together. My avoidance could be a viewed as a positive thing, but it is avoidance. Not wanting to know the damage. It's a lot of pressure. Pressure I put on myself. I must make my life better. It is the mantra that haunts me, sometimes drives me, but that also holds me back. It's a cycle I seem unable to escape. The Rug Doctor said, "Do you remember when I gave you permission to hate the gym, really hate it and be okay with that and not go? And within a couple of months, you decided on your own, on your own terms to go to the gym. I think maybe we need to apply that here with all the shit you are dealing with." I considered what she said and replied, "If I understand you correctly, what I heard you say is, it's okay for me to hate getting up and going to work...is that correct? Because there is a note you can write to make that okay..." She laughed and said, no, that wasn't exactly what she meant, but hey, if I can get away with that, it couldn't hurt. I think they call that...FMLA paperwork, but I can't be sure...
Anyway, we touched on the fact that I had stopped my meds and maybe that was a bad idea. She's not saying I should, she's not saying I shouldn't, but maybe, just maybe some drugs could keep me from crying all day and having epic pug dog meltdowns. This means I have to find a doctor I like. Doctor Lite is officially fired. I hate her guts, sense of style, bad hair and her inability to be the doctor I needed her to be, like a good one. It's either that or street drugs. No yammering on about my history and how I feel, just someone that does a pass off on the street corner and doesn't ask me any questions. So, I will now except names from my followers, provide me names of good doctors and good drug dealers. I'm open to suggestion.
I left my appointment exhausted and emotional. My phone rang and it was Valerina. She says, "Did Cross Fit Crazy text you?" There was excitement in her voice. Immediately I was on alert, "Why, what happened now, what's wrong?" She was like, "What? No, it's good news..." I told her not to scare me like that, you can't call me and and ask "guess what happened?" I don't get good news like, "guess what happened, you won the lottery!" "Guess what happened? They invented a drug that makes you lose weight guaranteed and it's free! AND, here is a lifetime supply AND you will lose all your weight in 2 weeks." Nope, I don't get those calls. So, I showed her, she asked me how it went and I started crying. Yep, that's how I keep my friends calling back time after time. However, as I sit here and write this, I know that all my friends have a high tolerance for drama, so I'm pretty sure if I haven't scared them off yet, they probably aren't going anywhere. That thought comforts the Pony. No matter how much of a hot mess I am, they are unwavering. Maybe tonight I can think about that thought and dream about unicorns or something. I do have a few Percoset left, that should help get the party started...bring on the unicorns...g'night all....
I sat in the waiting room and scrolled through Facebook. A lot of bad news. A shooting, pony drama for my sister and other people we know, people frustrated with other mean people. I had already been very teary the last couple of days and this didn't help. It's not good when you are crying before you even go in for therapy. I started out by telling the Rug Doctor that it had been a rough couple of weeks with doctor visits, etc. I then told her about the dream I had last night. I dreamed that I was herding sheep, a big herd on this grassy hillside. The sheep were unruly and running all over in the river, in the bog, up the hill. And, there was shit everywhere, but not sheep shit, it was like goose shit. And it was EVERYWHERE. I tried to walk through it without stepping in it, but I couldn't avoid it. My good dog, Spanky, was there, too. I needed to go to the bathroom, so I headed to the main structure on this property. It wasn't my house, or work, I don't know what it was. The bathrooms were totally ghetto and I didn't feel safe in there. Then I woke up. The Rug Doctor said, "I hope you see how crystal clear that is." I just looked at her. I had a few theories. She went on and said something to the effect of, "You are surrounded by shit. It's at work, in your personal life, within yourself and you can't get away from it, no matter how hard you try, it's everywhere. Spanky is there as a reminder that some shit you don't mind, because you know it comes with what you love, and the bathrooms, well, you can't even deal with your own shit because of all the shit."
The Rug Doctor went on to talk about how it is hard for empathetic, caring people that are care-givers, they take everything on. Really, that is why I have to be Angry Pony behind the keyboard. While I enjoy being there for my friends and family, I absorb the stress and become angry about the injustices of life. That anger has to go somewhere. I'm pissed off, not only for me, but for others when life is unfair and it becomes easier to focus on the injustices of it all. The irony of seeking happiness as Angry Pony is not lost on me. Grasping the positive and moving forward seems impossible. There is no Pinterest self-induced positive bullshit here. Don't come looking for it, because you won't find it.
We talked about other things that have been weighing heavily on my mind and how my mood has been making life more challenging. The number of times I press the snooze alarm, the length of time it takes me to leave the house, my reluctance to face the day, being late for work...throwing my badge at the file cabinet and making my boss scurry past my desk like a mouse in a house fire. (It does kind of make me laugh when his entire body is within the safety of the office and his head is stretched out around the corner to talk to me. He's like a turtle ready to retreat into it's shell.) I shared with her that the beginning of each day feels like an obligation to do the right thing, say the right thing, make the right choices, ensure everyone takes care of business, whether that is at work or at home. I have to think about what I'm going to eat, how my body feels, can I make it to the gym? Each day a chance at failure and each day that becomes a failure is then relived the following morning as I get on the scale or avoid the scale all-together. My avoidance could be a viewed as a positive thing, but it is avoidance. Not wanting to know the damage. It's a lot of pressure. Pressure I put on myself. I must make my life better. It is the mantra that haunts me, sometimes drives me, but that also holds me back. It's a cycle I seem unable to escape. The Rug Doctor said, "Do you remember when I gave you permission to hate the gym, really hate it and be okay with that and not go? And within a couple of months, you decided on your own, on your own terms to go to the gym. I think maybe we need to apply that here with all the shit you are dealing with." I considered what she said and replied, "If I understand you correctly, what I heard you say is, it's okay for me to hate getting up and going to work...is that correct? Because there is a note you can write to make that okay..." She laughed and said, no, that wasn't exactly what she meant, but hey, if I can get away with that, it couldn't hurt. I think they call that...FMLA paperwork, but I can't be sure...
Anyway, we touched on the fact that I had stopped my meds and maybe that was a bad idea. She's not saying I should, she's not saying I shouldn't, but maybe, just maybe some drugs could keep me from crying all day and having epic pug dog meltdowns. This means I have to find a doctor I like. Doctor Lite is officially fired. I hate her guts, sense of style, bad hair and her inability to be the doctor I needed her to be, like a good one. It's either that or street drugs. No yammering on about my history and how I feel, just someone that does a pass off on the street corner and doesn't ask me any questions. So, I will now except names from my followers, provide me names of good doctors and good drug dealers. I'm open to suggestion.
I left my appointment exhausted and emotional. My phone rang and it was Valerina. She says, "Did Cross Fit Crazy text you?" There was excitement in her voice. Immediately I was on alert, "Why, what happened now, what's wrong?" She was like, "What? No, it's good news..." I told her not to scare me like that, you can't call me and and ask "guess what happened?" I don't get good news like, "guess what happened, you won the lottery!" "Guess what happened? They invented a drug that makes you lose weight guaranteed and it's free! AND, here is a lifetime supply AND you will lose all your weight in 2 weeks." Nope, I don't get those calls. So, I showed her, she asked me how it went and I started crying. Yep, that's how I keep my friends calling back time after time. However, as I sit here and write this, I know that all my friends have a high tolerance for drama, so I'm pretty sure if I haven't scared them off yet, they probably aren't going anywhere. That thought comforts the Pony. No matter how much of a hot mess I am, they are unwavering. Maybe tonight I can think about that thought and dream about unicorns or something. I do have a few Percoset left, that should help get the party started...bring on the unicorns...g'night all....
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