Banquet of Consequences

Hello blogasphere.  It feels as though it has been a long time.  The biggest thing to happen is that I've turned 31.

Oh, and, I've seen a therapist for the first time.  By myself.  I've been sitting in this dead zone for the last six months.  Frozen in fear.  An indescribable, crushing fear. The longer I stand still, the more crushing this stagnation is for me.  I haven't been able to understand why I can't/won't move on.  I'm unhappy in this relationship; I hate my job, so why am I not moving on?

I realized that I was avoiding my reality and at the end of the day, I was suffering the consequences of an undecided mind.  I decided that I needed to seek some therapeutic services.

There have been few times in my life where I knew what I had to do.  A solid feeling that moved through my being that I felt as though if I didn't act, the world wouldn't be right.  The first time, I was 26 and had been on the Depo-Provera shot for 9 years.  I could not stand for one more second the thought of a hormone coursing through my body.  A foreign unknown substance reaking havoc on me.  I obsessed about it until I was able to stop taking it.  Discontinuing birth control was the single best thing I have ever done for myself.  

The second, was a few days ago when I had that same overwhelming desire as above and I sought a psychologist. 

Its weird sitting in the consulting room.  As someone who has owned my own psych practice, I never really think about what its like to have to actual sit there and tell someone your story.  Worst, I know what they are looking for and what they're going to tell me, but on Tuesday, I didn't have a choice, I needed to get my story out in an environment that would stimulate some sort of growth.

And grow, I did do.  I told my story from start to finish in 45 minutes.  In the end, the psych, who sat still and said nothing for 40 minutes looked at me and said, "okay, I'm going to recap."  He repeated a few key points back to me and said, "time is up, but I want to ask you a few questions."  I stopped him and I said, "I know what it is."

He paused, and I continued.

"I'm afraid of the consequences.  All of my life, I have made decisions on impulse.  Never fearing the consequences.  But today, I sit here with nothing to prove who I am.  Nothing to prove the life I've lived.  You don't know that I've owned a Consulting Firm or my own Private Practice.  I have nothing to show for it.  You don't know that I was married.  You don't know that I've owned my own house, fostered dogs and cats.  Had my own precious puppies that I raised from 8 weeks old.  All because I've never been afraid to let go and move on.  In this moment, I am afraid of my future.  I'm afraid of the consequences of walking away from a man I know loves me.  I'm afraid of resigning from a job out of fear of being unable to get a new one.  I'm 31, with hopes of maybe having a baby someday, a home, a domesticated life.  If I end this relationship, I'm afraid of the consequences."

We finished up my session, by paying the $200 price tag and I walked to the tram, lost in thought.

I never in my life have felt this way.  Is this my age, or maturity speaking?

A 31 year old, woman with no degree, living in a foreign country and a sagging ass.  What the hell am I going to do with my life?  I'm too old to continue seeking and searching.  But you know what?  

I.  Can't. Keep. Heading. in the direction I'm going.  PIB and I are not able to communicate.  Silence is not a way to handle a relationship.    

I also can't handle the stressors of work and my relationship.  I have just never been able to.  And I'm honestly more comfortable in my professional life then my personal life.  So I will always take the easy way out and choose work over a relationship.  Because with work, I have full control.  In a relationship, I have to be vulnerable.  If that vulnerability isn't appreciated or acknowledged, then I see no reason to continue to be vulnerable.  

See, I've ask for a simple thing, for us to attend therapy together.  Its a relationship, it takes two to participate.  Therapy just for myself is useless when I know the broken bit is a relationship.

relationship

rɪˈleɪʃ(ə)nʃɪp/

noun

1. the way in which two or more people or things are connected, or the state of being connected.

This particular relationship has asked for me to accept things that I'm not comfortable accepting and ideas that push my comfort zones.  It's all for you baby, therapy is the least that can be given in return.  

I told him last night that he could choose not to come.  If he didn't attend I would still love him and I meant that.  But I've got to get my fucking shit together.  And to do that, I need to fix the shit that is broken, bent, or not working properly.  I need a clear head and a mindset that isn't new to me.  This is it.  I'm sailing this way, you're on board or you aren't.  But I can't let a heart break, and love hold me down when its only bringing unhappiness and strife to our lives.

I told Nathan a very long time ago, its like my favorite pair of shoes.  Just because I love them, doesn't mean they are still wearable.  If the shoes I love can't be fixed; Its time to find a new pair of shoes.

So here I come world. Broken in a new way, but still me.  Older and none the wiser.  A pity really.