Sit. In it.
Look.
Therapy can be some shit.
This stuff splits you wide open, and demands your attention.
I’ve spent my whole life building up these powerful defenses.
Humor.
Appearance.
Success.
Then… snap! Just like that!
It all comes back and threatens everything!
Jeez Louise!
I got hit by a TRAIN this month. (I wrote this Summer 2022--I'm 41 now)
Im not worried about turning 40! My mom is the cutest thing ever (turned 70 the same day) and has always shown me that age is a state of mind!
Well… that maybe true- and I have embraced 40 with ALL the things. (If you know, you know).
But a cluster of events allowed me to feel the depths of the pain that I have built OUTSTANDING defenses around in effort to never feel again.
Invisible. Irrelevent. Insignificant.
WHY am I still in the same spot?!
I have been in therapy, I’ve read the books, I’ve had the conversations…
Yet here I am. Sobbing. About the stupid childhood wounds and beliefs I have stored up so tightly—-that I, ultimately, am insignificant.
Look. Not trying to overshare. But If anyone knows me at all… I tend to be an open book.
I will never apologize for my candor---though I'm learning better limits with it.
I think our honesty and vulnerability allows us and others space to be human.
And the last thing I want is to hide my cracks to appear a way that is “more acceptable” or “appropriate.”
Heck, I think I gave up that battle years ago.
But, seriously, y’all.
Sometimes you just need to sit in it.
SIT IN IT and FEEL IT.
And I get it- I freaking get it y’all.
“Ignorance is bliss!”
Yep… the people I know who are not in therapy and have not “broken the seal”… I’m incredibly obvious of!
Oh the day of not knowing what you don’t know….
But, I know.
I know so much.
And when I think I know all of my junk, the Lord generously supplies a new layer of knowing.
And now, I can’t NOT know!
So when junk gets stirred up in you, some part of you actually knows why and where it comes from. And that SUPER stubborn part of you… the part you want desperately to ignore, knows what you’re SUPPOSED to do.
And you simply cannot unsee.
I saw it all today. And yesterday.
And I just had to sit in that junk.
And feel it.
Ugh.
It was like 2 hours of COMPLETE CRAP.
But. I at present.
Feel better.
I am not a captor to it.
It does NOT own me.
I own it.
It is part of my story.
And it helped make me who I am.
I am not mad at “IT.”
But I refuse to be a slave to it.
I say “NO” when I mean NO.
I speak up when I feel unheard.
I show up when I want to hide.
I still feel it though. Not often. But when it comes storming in,
I feel it.
Look.
Therapy isn’t for everyone.
(Actually I disagree with that— I think it is)
But as much as it hurts when I see it (whatever anyones “it” is) surface, I prefer knowing what it is and seeing it, as opposed to just behaving or reacting out of my defenses. (Which I also still sometimes do, but my repair time is sooner!!)
It’s up to you guys.
You can ignore it.
Avoid it.
Pretend it’s not a thing.
Or—
You can sit in it.
As gross and uncomfortable as it is.
And you can throw away whatever you don’t need from it anymore.
Neither are easy.
1- has an opportunity for reprieve.
The other… ongoing- involuntary- reactionary behavior.
Like addiction.
Shame.
Sex.
Food.
Attention.
Workaholism.
“I choose “THE KNOWING” for the win, Alex!”
Look y’all…
“You do you” is my go to phrase.
So… you know what you’re ready for.
Being in counseling doesn’t make everything go away.
It does, however, give you tools for knowing what to do when your junk rings the front door bell.
I answered it today.
I didn’t like what was there.
But I didn’t run.
I didn’t avoid.
I sat.
I sobbed.
I felt it.
And then I got my ass up and kept going!
So…. “You do you” guys.
If you are ready to start moving trough it… e-mail us.
I know our counselors stories.
I love them all.
And I know for a fact that they are excellent in certain areas BECAUSE Of their stories.
E-mail us, and our directors will get you connected with the counselor best suited for you!
Love you all.
I’m upright and doing my thing.
Welcome to my vulnerable place.
Jo