I’ve been in this involuntary tranz ( I understand this is not the proper spelling for this word; however, I think it looks cool. I’m going to use it. May we continue?) lately.
Two weeks ago, I restarted professional therapy. Whew!! One 45 minute session accomplished so much. The con to attending therapy, is the drawn out session in my head, once I’ve left that professional setting. Questions, scenarios, playbacks, quotes verbatim murmured in my mind.
Some of them felt wonderful. I knew this self evaluation was going to be a huge part in my healing. I knew this therapist made a spot specifically for me, in her schedule. Our conversation flowed with a nice easy respect between therapist and client. She actually was familiar with the concept of Highly Sensitive. It was great.
When I left, that’s when the real stuff started. All the history that I told her in our brief time together, was there fresh in my face. As an HSP and INFJ, there’s no way to explain our pain other than literally reliving it, when we remember. It’s a first encounter.. again and again.
Having no desire to change course from revisiting the situations, refilling myself with the emotions, and evaluating what was actually true, I have had little time to blog. My stats as of the last couple days have been straight zeros. No visitors, views, nothing…
What have I been doing, then? Well… I was busy walking, and sorting through my previous relationships. I have been journaling about my own spouts of depression and body image issues. I’ve been working so hard at continuing being a great mom to my girls… while I cried at night.. because begging me is HARD.
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We’re just coming out of Winter. The growing of buds align streets. Excessive chirping serenades early risers. Flowers are reaching for the sun, in all their amazing glory.
Like many, I am working through the end of seasonal depression. It’s not a powerfully controlling; but, it’s still here.
The thing is, my depression has been with me since 2002. In all these years, there’s been one factor contributing to my highest anxiety and lowest depression points: disrespect.
I’ve allowed passes for people who don’t deserve it. I’ve accepted it from parents; because, I was the introvert child. I had it polluting my relationships. I had it in my social circle. It was everywhere… slowing killing me…
The moment I realized the correlation between these two, along with my recent infant practice of enforcing boundaries, a world of weight lifted off me. I needed to understand exactly how and why though… what is this new revelation trying to teach me?
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Starlight Magnolia Stories 