Today’s Happy Note: Wearing one of my favorite skirts. My mom gave it to me for Christmas a few years ago. It’s long and fuschia and looks sort of like crepe paper. Makes me feel like I should twirl. Sometimes I do.
Marathon Training: My legs hurt yesterday after Tuesday’s 20-miler. I am pretty nervous about this Sunday’s 22-miler (which will be done with a special friend! I’m going to keep you in suspense as to who, mwahahaha — she is a blogger though). I think the key to the run will be overcoming my psychic pain and anxiety; the physical pain is so much less intense sometimes. Last night I did 15 minutes of abs followed by a lovely vinyasa class at Yoga Vida (my favorite studio in the city, that I’ve been to so far). This afternoon I busted out 8 miles of speedwork: 1 WU, 3×1 mile @ Tempo pace with easy 400 between, 3×800 Fast with easy 400 between, 1 mile CD. I’m not sure if that adds up to 8 but whatever, that’s how much I did in total. I estimated on the easy portions. I was super anxious about even starting this workout but it turned out fine! Silly Caronae.
FYI: It might be helpful to read last week’s thoughts first, since a lot of thoughts from today are sort of continuations from last week.
USB was in my room last Sunday and we were talking, cuddling, etc. My computer was open and I wanted to show him what the blog looked like (he is very curious about the blog; I have told him all about it but he doesn’t actually read it, at this point — I am not trying to keep it from him at all, I just am not sure if I am ready to completely share it. I think maybe I am). Anyways I was showing him the title and the layout and a post where I talked about him a bit was up. He asked if he could read it and I said, “no, read my therapy post instead”. He knows about my mental issues/general craziness and a bit about my therapy, so I didn’t think it would be a big deal. I thought that I spent most of the post talking about my relationship with L and how she cried and it moved me and I feel fat and lalala — the usual therapy stuff. I completely and totally forgot that I said I told L I think I might love him. So I said “sure, go ahead, read that post” and left him to it while I went to cook some squash.
I came back about ten minutes later and immediately realized what I had done. I had just told USB, the first man I have ever loved (it’s only been two months, but I am quite certain of what I’m feeling — I feel things very intensely, in general) that I loved him through a blog post about therapy.
I was mortified. Not just mortified but I also felt bad. That was never, in my mind, how I planned on saying I Love You.
He laughed and held me and was very sweet about it all. It’s a funny story, I guess. Bizarre. Maybe I should be tighter-lipped on the blog. I don’t want to be, though.
I just realized that has nothing to do with my thoughts about therapy this week but whatever. I wanted to share.
This week was all about relationships, of the romantic love variety. I especially talked about my parents and what seeing their relationship has been like for me. It has changed a lot over the years and has in some ways been a big source of confusion for me. They are divorced, but still seem to love each other. This actually isn’t where we started — we began by talking about her crying last week and what that was like for both of us. I expressed to L that it was tremendously moving, for me. It made me see her as more human. It also made me reflect back on myself — how can I be kinder to me? Anyways, she said that she had been embarrassed, but also seemed to express that it was a genuine moment of emotion for her. It was serious — I feel like there are meaningful tears and not meaningful tears. Her tears were meaningful.
I asked her about how it made her feel and what she was thinking about the subject that made her cry in the first place (which I won’t get into). She was very honest with me, and very tender. She told me that she cried even more after I left. I felt bad. I know that I don’t have to take care of her — indeed, that is one reason why, in therapy, the therapist is not supposed to reveal much about him or herself or show many of his or her emotions, so that the patient can be completely vulnerable and cared for and loved. But I sort of want to. I think I see a lot of similarities between us. There are obvious differences as well, though.
Love relationships are all different. It’s funny because I always imagined it would be a certain way, but it isn’t that way. It’s its own way. And if and when I love another man, that will happen in its own way as well. And the way my grandparents love each other is different, and the way my best friend from MI loves her boyfriend is different. I like that love is an adaptable thing. It doesn’t always have to be the same; that’s part of the reason it’s so fun. With USB I feel like everyday is something new but I also feel like there is a consistency to it.
I thought some more about my parents and their love. I kept coming back to that today.
I arrive at 12:10 to therapy. I usually come upstairs and settle in around 12:15 and then L checks her messages and we start around 12:20. Then we finish around 1:10-1:15 when the next person is ready to come up. Pretty straightforward pattern.
At the end of the hour today, that pattern was completely disrupted when the next person rang the bell at 1:00. I practically had a panic attack. I could not handle it. I want to say that I have no idea why it upset me so much, but I do know. I like consistency in general, but with L, that consistency is pretty much sacred. It’s not that I was feeling jealous that my hour would end early or peeved that I would still be paying the full ten dollars. I didn’t care about those things. What I couldn’t handle was the fact that something about therapy was going to change. The content may seem infinitely more important than the structure for therapy, but that isn’t always true. I was literally shaking.
L, bless her, knows me quite well at this point. I also feel comfortable being open with her. I told her that it was upsetting me greatly, and I think she could tell. She told the other person to wait or come back in ten minutes.
That sounded really selfish and mean. I probably would have been annoyed if I were that other person. But at the same time, it was tremendously graceful and thoughtful of her and it meant a lot to me. It meant that I could breathe again, for one thing. It meant that I could talk for ten more minutes. But more importantly, it meant that she values me and cares about me. I already know this, of course, but have not necessarily felt it through her actions before.
I definitely have a love for L. I have not talked to her about this yet, but will say that I am very nervous about the prospect of law school, not because the idea of law school scares me, but because the idea of leaving L, in 8 months or so, scares me. My dream is to get into a law school in NYC so I can still have her. I don’t know if I am being overly dependent. I don’t think so. L isn’t the only reason I want to stay in NYC by any means — I love the city, I love my friends here, I love the life I have set up here. And she is an important part of that life, at this moment in time. I think she is genuinely helpful to me on an ongoing basis. She has a kindness and a consistency and a compassion that I need in my life. She helped lead me out of a very scary place.
The future is a scary thing.