Sometimes We Do Fall Down

Paralyzed could be the way I'm being. Stuck is a word I've used often. I'm growing tired of that word, but yes, stuck.

I've had the name of a therapist for three or so months in my day planner and have not made an appointment. Who knows why. Lazy? Afraid? Lazy? Stuck? Unwilling to do the work? I don't know.

I saw a therapist about three years ago for less than a dozen times. When it started getting hard I ran. I had even warned him I was a runner. My unwillingness to face myself is kinda laughable. I claim I want to dig deep, but don't.

I'm feeling unlovable, unlikeable, unworthy. I'm looking at those words and am now feeling like a big whiner and pussy. WThell is the problem? I'm definitely at an age where I really should know a few more answers than I do.

My old therapist was a perfectly nice person and I'm certain he could have helped me, but here's one thing that led to my running. He mentioned I'm an empath and in that time I did not know what that meant. I understood that to mean something whooo-hoo and unworldly. I have since found out it simply means you feel other's feelings or some such shit. A better way to explain might be I can feel another's sense of certain things. More than I care to frankly. I don't like being one. I realize empathy is something we need more of, but I'm not sure this is what it means in my mind.

I don't know. All of what I've just written looks like so much dumb-ass mutterings. Blech.

I am way too sensitive and take things way personally. Although, at times, I believe it might be the only way to take a particular incident or experience.

Fuck

The other evening some plans Pup and I had fell through (she forgot we had made plans) and I fell apart. In my fake or real empath way I am feeling that someone has total contempt for me now and maybe forever, and only has contact with me at all because I'm her momma.

I'm overstating I pray, but somewhere in there is a kernel of the real story. We haven't talked about the real story so I don't know what's wrong. Everything. Nothing. But it's there and unforgivable. I'll talk about what it probably is soon.

But, the other night when the plans were changed I had a quiet, but complete meltdown. I cried in my bed for hours. Had the darkest thoughts I've ever had. The thoughts even scared me. I felt so worthless and terrible I - just for a moment - imagined I could end me and others would be better off.

what the fuck

Scary to imagine and I had to crawl out of bed and watch something on my computer and sleep sitting up in my desk chair. fuck

The next day I snapped out of it a little.

I do snap out of my dark moods/thoughts, but they are dark and deep and I sometimes seem to relish them or encourage them or do nothing to dissuade them.

fuck

fuck and stuck

To hide I shop too much. I eat too much. I do nothing too much. I push friends away too much until I barely have any left. I watch tv too much. Do nothing too much. Sit too much. Ponder too much.