As I mentioned, I've been taking some tablets to help me manage my head space and emotions. They are working a treat and I am able to manage and help myself cope with 'stuff' a bit better. A lot better actually. But on the flip side I'm aware that I am taking a chemical to alter my brain patterns and that any improvements I'm feeling aren't potentially real.. If you see what I mean. (As an aside, I get frustrated when I see my counsellor and she makes me fill out a form detailing my feelings on a sliding scale... OF COURSE IM FEELING LESS DEPRESSED! Hellloooo! I've got anti-depressants!! Ahem. Anyway.)
My first lightening moment of the week happened with the annoying counsellor, who I hate seeing and who I dont value the time I 'waste' with. Damnit, I'm aware of the irony. I wasn't aware of the lightening moment when it happened either, I was to busy crying for myself and hating her session. But a couple of days of calm process later and I can clearly see her point.
I am too busy managing everyone else's feelings, to manage my own.
That's a scary thing to put out there. It's a big thing to admit to and recognise. But recognise it I have. I have realised that I worry more about how to manage other peoples reaction to me and or my feelings, and I don't process my own feelings. For example, I will worry more about how my depression effects you, then how it effects me. I will try and make you feel better about it, long before I start on myself. I need to start letting other people own how they feel, let them deal with that, and just own my own shizzle.
Phew.
So then. Today I went to see my osteopath. He's an amazing guy, at least a generation older than me, turtleneck and flip flop wearing. I'm a little bit in love with him. Not only does he help my broken body (I'm aware of the strong term there), he also offers unintentional counsel.
At the start of every session he watches me walk back and forth across the room to gauge my gait and levels of discomfort etc. Today he commented 'you always walk so nervously Sarah, are you in pain?' I laughed and said, 'Ironically no. Not today. Between you and Lucy (massage), you are both taming the beast at the moment'
Bam.
The lightening moment was realising, as I laid on his couch and he manipulated my pelvis, was that I am nervous. ALL. THE. TIME. I am constantly anxious, nervous and on edge. I anxiously walk about waiting for my back, or the metal beast that lives on my back, to rear it's ugly head and stop my movement with a single sharp jab of it's whip like tail.
What an analogy.. I realise it's a bit weird to talk of steel rods as a beast. I realise it's a bit odd to walk around nervously waiting for the next bite.
Whilst it's odd, it has also opened up the realisation that I am feeling so anxious about everything and everyone because I am waiting for the next beating. I am broken and cowed into submission by a piece of metal that was (and actually does to a degree) supposed to fix me.
What a head space to live in.
The excitement I'm feeling comes from
knowing I am making small, if painful, realisations. I am not stuck in a repeating pattern anymore. Things are changing. There is a light at the end of the tunnel.
There is hope.
Thanks for reading xxx
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