No Crying Allowed!, Just a Bit of Bitterness, and New Art Therapy Homework

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No crying allowed!

Another therapy session where my brain kind of fried. <sigh>  The work is so hard!

I came a hair’s breadth from crying in AT yesterday…..It was not fun.  I was trying to explain to the Art Therapist (and did not do a very good job) of how even when I am supposed to be happy, I just feel this vast emptiness and nothingness inside me…sort of achingly hollow.  And I know that I am missing out on feeling good and being happy and it sort of crushes me.  It’s kind of like how I remember when sex used to be light and fun and not emotionally loaded….And now it is sooo complicated…And I know what I am missing and I hate that I am missing it.

And you know what? It hurts to be empty and full of nothingness.  Like, deep down inside, it just hurts.  And I hate it.  That’s why I almost cried…the hurting was just right there…And it wants me to feel it.  But I can’t.  I cannot go there. I cannot let it out.  And I need to figure out how to keep it under control.  The more the hurting tries to come out, the more out of control I feel.  And I have to be in control.  But….I know that at some point, I am going to lose control and it scares me.  Just plain terrifies me.  Which makes me need to have tighter control, which makes the stakes even higher.  It’s a vicious little cycle I have myself in.

Just a bit of Bitterness

Okay…I am going to totally veer to another topic….So, it is back-to-school time.  Ds is preparing his second year of college and will be living home with us again/still (Long story…but he lived on campus last fall but hated it and the expense of it, so moved home to save money on room and board.)  Despite him living at home, I am getting emails from a company selling care packages for back-to-school to help ease your child’s transition with sweets and snacks.  These ads really bother me.  And here’s why:

My parents often prepared and sent care packages to my sister.  When I was still home, and she was off at college, I would watch them put together boxes of food, snacks and little gifts and send them to her.  When my sib and I were both in college, sometimes I would go home to visit and see care packages for her sitting in the kitchen being assembled for mailing off.  Have you guessed the punch line?  My parents never sent me a care package.  Not. Even. One. Ever.  My sister and I even spent a couple of years at the same college and they sent her care packages and never sent me one.  Heck, they even built her a custom shelf unit/microwave stand for her dorm room.  Me?  I got nothing. Not a thing.  My parents continued to send her care packages even after she graduated and moved around New England.  And nope, I never got one.  I know I should be over it, but I still feel pretty bitter about it to this day.  (And I wonder why I feel worthless?)

I could probably give you a gazillion examples of this inequity, from when we were kids to pretty much this day.  I never understood the favoritism….Except to deduce that there must be something wrong with me so they didn’t like me as much.

So anyway, care package advertisements are a bit triggering for me…..I gotta get off that mailing list!

New Art Therapy Homework

I wish I understood what goes on in that man’s head!  The Art Therapist said we are supposed to have some decent weather over the weekend and that I should spend time looking at the sky.  Yup.  I am supposed to look at the sky, and I guess take it all in and then we are supposed to see how that experience expresses itself in my mandalas.  I totally don’t get it.  But that’s okay…so much of my work with the AT is about taking that leap of faith and trusting that he knows what he is doing….I think I am starting to get used to it!

2 thoughts on “No Crying Allowed!, Just a Bit of Bitterness, and New Art Therapy Homework

  1. It’s not surprising you don’t want to cry, as there is much to mourn.
    I can’t fathom such obvious favoritism, unless it was a workable plan since childhood to intentionally keep you down…and quiet to protect themselves. My mother used shame to silence me.

  2. I find looking at the sky amazingly soothing…and opening, if that makes sense. It feels as if all the closed off, tight spaces inside of me slowly expand and feel less constricted, and peaceful.

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