Today’s photo challenge is ‘something i learned’ and I think I’m going to take a photograph of the orchid on my kitchen windowsill; this time last year I thought it was dead. The lesson learned being that even seemingly dead things may flower again if left alone.
That strikes me as being a lot like my life really. Leave me alone and I’ll bloom. Stifle me and I’ll likely curl up and hope you go away.
Due to the terrible month that was March I opted to throw my hands in the air, wave the white flag and surrender myself to the Happiness Pills. It’s been six weeks now and they appear to be working, although in the last week I’ve felt more anxious and somewhat hyper again. I’m on the lowest dose possible; it may need tweaking.
Also, I’m seeing a counsellor.
It is REALLY difficult. Not only do I not like talking, but I definitely don’t like talking about myself.
And despite only seeing her for three one hour sessions, I appear to have learnt (or allowed myself to realise) some things about myself.
I’m a control freak.
I may possibly have a superiority complex.
I actually LIKE feeling this way. This goes back to being a control freak.
Although I now look at things as an adult and think they’re insignificant, the fact that they happened when I was a child – thinking as a child – means that it’s okay to accept that my childhood was traumatic.
I have a lot of guilt over the stuff I put my beloved Mumsy through.
I never talk about my own (personal) experiences, even with friends.
I have no (limited) confidence/self-esteem.
I push people away because it’s easier than having to deal with drama.
I can’t think of anything that I’m good at.
What are you good at, KatieF?
I don’t know. I can tell you lots of things I’m not good at though.
I know that, she laughed.
I hate it when she asks me what I’m thinking. Sometimes I’m sitting there and not thinking anything, and sometimes I’m unable to put the things I’m thinking into spoken sentences which will make sense, even to me.
I know I’ve been very lucky. Because of the kidney situation I was able to see her (she’s the renal counsellor attached to the dialysis unit at Hospital) and it all happened rather quickly. Had I had to wait for therapy at the GP surgery I would have had a good three months to wonder why I’m bothering, and then I wouldn’t have gone. I don’t know how many more sessions I’ll have, or whether it’s really helping me as much as it could, but at least I can say that I’ve tried it and I’ve tried opening up and being honest about who I am and where I’ve come from.
It’s just nice for someone to tell me that it’s okay to feel this way … it isn’t all just in my head.