August And Everything.. erhrm .. Up Until Then

It’s August, people. Can you believe it? Whatever happened to June and July? I must have blinked and missed them.. How ’bout you?

Stuff is happening here. Good stuff, bad stuff – and stuff too complex to even contemplate categorising. You know how it goes.

Went home at the beginning of July. Lovely drive up with my sister, her dog and her partner. [My sister’s partner, that is, not her dog’s partner..] Groovy stuff. Funky times. And music to match.

Also, pre driving up north I got the chance to spend a bit of time with my friend E., who I hadn’t seen in wayyy too long. A person who understands the unique and magic healing powers of good friends and a cup of tea.

Driving up north was kind of cool, and not only owing to the A/C. As we set out pretty late in the day, it should have grown darker and darker, but since we were driving closer and closer to the arctic circle, it was actually getting lighter and lighter. One of the many fantastic things about The North. Big time funkiness.

Stayed at my mum’s place, which was what I had been wanting to do. And even though it’s always a bit of a juggle getting the balance right between spending time with her, hanging out with my sisters and seeing my friends, I think it went reasonably ok. Sadly this time my friends drew the shortest straw, but hopefully it won’t be too long before my next visit. And, thankfully, I have the most amazing friends, who stand by me despite hardly getting to see me. Ehrm.. or maybe they’re sticking with me because they don’t have to see me too often. :) Nah! Not really.

Had a blast getting to know my newest nephew better, once he, my other sister and her husband joined us in our hometown.

Other happy memories include my 4-year-old niece teaching us all how to lawn-surf, spending a night at the summer house partaking of a traditional Sister’s Day meal, cuddling up on the sofa with my oldest niece, and watching my mum’s King Charles gulfing down a pound of sweets in seconds flat, only to be projectile vomiting the rest of the evening. Ok, so the last wasn’t really all that funny, but still..

That said, the truth is that being home does take something of an emotional toll. I don’t think it will ever be entirely straightforward going home. “You can always go home, but you can never go back”. True, that.

What else? Well, I’m still doing a shift a week at work. Has been a few times when I haven’t feel able to go, but on the days when I have it’s always been a very positive experience.

Therapy has shifted up a gear. I’m seeing A. three times a week now, which makes for a much better session-to-session flow. Also, I think, I am more ready to really challenge myself to delve deeper. To not come up for air at the first sign of being under water. Wow – that’s an exceptionally poor metaphor – my apologies, but let’s surf with it just the same; hopefully you still get what I’m saying.. Basically, I’m trying to avoid a deus ex machina ending to my therapy; to stick with it, rather than to look for a desperate ‘out’. [I feel my literature professor from uni would cringe at my casual implementation of one of his favourite Latin expressions.]

Last week felt like a pivotal point in therapy. Big time. I guess I have reached the conclusion that therapy is about daring to be honest. With myself. To sit with my feelings and to accept them, even the ones that I’d rather not admit to having.

Anyhow, my dears – the hour is getting late.
[Yup – that’s a lie, but, so what? This isn’t therapy.]

All the very best and more,

xx

This blog was sponsored by the word FUNKY, the expression BIG TIME and the letter BEIT. No animals or children were intentionally harmed in the writing of this blog.

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Back? Home? Or ‘back home’?

So, I’m back in the UK. Big trip home over and done.
Or maybe this is just the beginning? I don’t know. It feels as if I haven’t yet absorbed or processed my trip yet. Like whatever feelings I have about it are hidden under a very thin coat of ice. Only that protective layer is slowly, but surely, beginning to melt. Or is that ‘cracking up’?

I don’t feel very in control at the moment. I’m feeling distinctly low. And this is despite the fact that there isn’t really anything concrete to feel low about. On a surface level the trip went basically ok. Not fantastic, nor a disaster; it was ok.

So, why am I feeling so low? Why do I feel like I’m going to crack open at any moment and a torrent of emotion will come flooding through?

People have, naturally, asked me how my trip was. And all I’ve said is that I don’t really know, that I need to wait a bit to answer that question.

For some reason the lines “..you can always go home, but you can never go back..” keep playing in my mind.

A. is still off, so no therapy for me this week. Doesn’t feel too great. But it’s just how it is. Soak it up, Champ.

In the last session before the break, before my trip home, I talked quite a lot about how worried I was about how I’d be able to cope with this week between me coming back to the UK and A. returning to work. A. said at the very end of session, just as I was leaving, that if I need to contact her in that week I can. We’ve never really established any clear rules around out-of-session contact, so for her to tell me this, it means a lot to me.

Only I know that I will always hold myself back from using that ‘lifeline’. This fear I have of intruding on A.’s off time, I can’t overcome it. I think that even if things got really desperate I wouldn’t pick up the phone.

Anyway, I think I’m going to keep this entry short. I don’t want to get too stuck in my own worries.

Be well,

xx