The Temporary Crashing Halt

There are so many things I want to write about and express. Day after day there are constant triggers hitting me in the head more than ever. I was told by my therapist the last time I saw her (I still have to wait to see her until December but for reasons not having to do with the insurance company this time) that when I come to full realization of how things really were for years, how I didn’t deserve the things I suffered through and how I AM a good person, it brings up a giant amount of anger and resentment in the midst of also feeling emotionally aware again and free. This is the hardest thing about therapy in my opinion. This is what makes it the most intense. When you’re facing the past all out in the open, it’s very uncomfortable and overwhelming because it’s much easier to live in denial and pretend you did deserve things you went through so you have nobody to be angry at. But it’s all a part of healing as they all say.

 

Anyway, despite what I just said in the previous paragraph, I am really having trouble picking anything out from my head to express in this blog. I am almost seeing the single outlet I started with in the beginning as a chore and getting down to writing something as the equivalent to needing to write a paper for a college course and procrastinating. I hate it. This is how much my brain has been cluttered in the past couple of months. Since moving to the new house in the beginning of August, I have only seen my therapist for what is probably, at the most, five times but probably even less than that. All of these gaps in time due to things I have no control over have fucked me up considerably. It’s almost as if I was hitching a ride to a destination, we travel a great distance, we’re in the middle of nowhere and then the driver stops, runs out of the car into who knows where, leaving me in the car in the desert by myself. Before hitching the ride, I was in a more civilized, comfortable setting. Now I’m closer to where I want to be but in a worse setting for the time being. December is a couple weeks away at this point. All I want for right now is to feel like that strong person I was only a couple months ago with a clearer head, a fresh new and confident outlook on myself and the motivation to keep expressing myself with a sharp focus. It will come back, but right now, temporarily anyway, it’s missing in action.

 

What’s ironic about the writer’s block I have been having is everything you just read in this post did not at all take long for me to type and very little thinking beforehand was involved. That’s something I always forget about when I post on this blog. I’m better off just writing what comes to mind at the given time and not have something planned so much. For me, anytime something is planned, no matter what it is, it then becomes seen as an obligation, which then feels like I’m being made to do it, resulting in it becoming a chore. And then the final result comes out as a forced, college essay that was written at a frantic pace because it was all done the night before the due date, which would most likely be the next morning, bright and early. The last thing I need is to treat what I’m passionate about like being back at school. Then we’re in trouble.

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