Hello hello! Sorry for my little absence; I traveled back from Michigan to New York this week. I don’t find traveling itself stressful, per se, but I do have difficulty conceptually transitioning from one place to another. This means that the weeks before and after I have to switch places are stressful for me, which just prolongs the whole ordeal.
I like new places though! I like being on my own and figuring out how to navigate a new place.
Are you a travel lover or hater?
Sugar update: The experiment has been going well! I have been working on consuming less sugar, not zero sugar altogether. I think a low sugar diet might be best for me (at least low in processed/refined/added sugar). I have still been enjoying a moderate amount of fruit, tea with stevia, and 1-2 servings of something that has sugar in it (like a protein bar or chocolate) per day. It has actually felt like I have gotten rid of a burden, somehow. And I don’t miss it too much, since I still let myself have a moderate amount!
I know I went through a period where I didn’t really want to blog about therapy, and I will probably feel that way again someday, but at the moment, I do want to blog about it.
I feel like it’s a hallmark of my blog; it is, after all, in the title!
It was scary for me to “be on my own” for almost a whole month, without L. I ended up calling her once or twice, as it was a difficult period for me in a lot of ways (breaking up with USB, dealing with my sometimes crazy family, applying to law school). But at the same time, I feel like she is always in the background of my life — like I can feel her there, somewhere slightly distant, but not terribly far away, on the whole. Just knowing that I have this person who exists, who does not judge me, who cares deeply about me is so comforting.
I’m someone who needs a lot of comfort in general. I told L about one of my particular “rituals” today, which involves taking this tiny wind-up otter toy that I have (his name is Oliver Henry Hudson) on planes with me and winding him up when the plane takes off. I have lots of little animals — a plushy key chain duck, a small cloth elephant ornament. I find small animal toys comforting. I also like to name things. The elephant is called Leila Emlyn Giovanna and the duck is called Leland.
Maybe it’s odd or childlike, but I think that the way I look for comfort is a little bit heartwarming. I find objects very meaningful; I cling to things. I can typically explain when it is from and why it is meaningful. My mother gave me my first set of measuring spoons for Christmas. They’re black and silver and the measure amount (e.g., “1 tbsp”, “1 tsp”, etc.) is marked in colorful letters on the handle.
I have a feeling I will still be using them in thirty five years. And my children will snarl at them and think they are old or ugly or outdated, just as I snarled at the plain blue plastic ones my mother has used since I was a baby. But it won’t matter. One day, I hope my children understand the importance if little objects.
I broke down with L; told her how sometimes I feel like such a child. How this is the way my extended family sees me and I hate it. I want to be grown-up and mature and kind, but I am afraid to step out of certain boxes I have lived in all of my life (particularly the “bad” box and the “mean” box). I have always had a little mean streak, wherein I hurt other people’s feelings. Most often, it is completely unintentional. I tend to latch onto an idea or a word or a topic and never let go of it, even when it has become hurtful or upsetting or annoying to someone else.
I don’t want to be mean anymore. But at the same time, I feel like I’m looking out at the world from below the flap of my trusty box and it’s scary — being inside the little box is comforting to me, and I seek out comfort wherever I find it.
I suspect that one day I will suddenly be ready and I will step out of all the boxes that I need to step out of when the time is right.
Until then, I have L. I have my otter and my elephant and my ducks. I have stories that I like to read and habits and ways of looking at the world that comfort me.
At the bottom of everything, I simply want to befriend people. Almost every action that I undertake or every thought that I speak comes from a place inside me wherein I feel deeply lonely and want to make friends. It’s funny, that I would be “mean” or “bad” and expect to make friends. But it’s true, in a strange way. It’s like I’m announcing my flaws and I want to be loved anyway.
Everyone just wants to be loved.
FYI: I’m trying to make the blog a wee bit more anonymous at the moment. If you see a comment on your blog from “Run Write Therapy Life” or “CH”, it’s still me.🙂