Is it just me?
I have returned from my appointment with the infamous Dr. Jab. I was already in a puddle of tears when he opened his door, so he greeted me with a kleenex and softened his usually acerbic wit. Frankly, I wasn't 'up' to it. My prognosis? Apparently, well, okay, TRUTHFULLY, the meds are doing their job. Whilst on vacation I rarely had a depressed day and had minimal meltdowns. The problem is in ....... My Head.
So you can understand why I am identifying so readily with Chicken Little. I have no defense. The source lies within my 'distorted thinking.' The glass is half-empty and the sky is falling down and I'm a big fat failure (yes, fat AND failing) and this thinking is way more than feeling sorry for myself. Dr. J pointed out that vacation is just that: a trip away from our every day lives. I happen to view my every day life as an insurmountable mountain of giant molehills. No compass to guide me. No shovel to dig myself out with. And I don't even dare begin to believe I'd be deserving of a cute red backhoe to help me out. At least, that's what I'm telling myself. And therein lies the problem: my self-talk is pretty screwy.
The solution? Talk therapy. And I happened to run into my old talk therapist right before I saw Dr. J, so maybe one piece of the sky isn't falling so rapidly. She agreed to try and work out a 'plan' of payments and appointments to see me. It's time I get some ears to listen to my jumbled thoughts and help me sort a clear path through this maze of I'M A FAILURE that I've created in my head. Oh and I have to go get another needle stick ..... yuck. But I scheduled it - yeah for me, right? Next step is to call the therapist ....
Bonus: Dr. Jab pointed out that I'm not the perfect mother, but I'm a good enough mother; a good friend and ........ a good girlfriend ??!!!
Every little bit counts. In the meantime, start collecting those pieces of blue sky for me, will ya?? I'll need them to piece the sky back together again.