Thursday 3/30/23 Been a While

 Wow. It's been 2 weeks since I last wrote. Quite honestly, nothing much has been going on. I'm relatively stable - not doing great, but not depressed either. I'm just kind of meh. I have good moments, I can feel happiness or joy or anger or any other feeling, but most of the time I'm just meh. No big deal. Whatever. 

I haven't been painting. At all. I haven't painted in like 3 weeks. I haven't really done much of anything. I go to work. I volunteer (like today). I nap. I tend to nap a lot. Most days I'm off. I hang out with my hubby. I'm pretty darn boring as of late. And that's okay. No drama. 

I had therapy on Tuesday with Becky. I needed to talk about my mom (we went to dinner with her last week and - surprise - she was drunk and acted a fool). I'm sick of dealing with her. I'm sick of talking to her, whether it be in person, on the phone, or text. She thinks that we're best friends. That not only am I her daughter, but also friend, confidant, and therapist. And I'm fucking sick of it. In reality we don't have ANY of those relationships, other than the fact that since she gave birth to me I guess that qualifies me as her daughter. We don't have a mother-daughter relationship. What little we do have is toxic. Because of her. Because she is an alcoholic. Because she's always been an alcoholic. And because she's delusional enough to think that she doesn't drink at all and therefore doesn't have a problem. I just can't anymore. And I vomited this all out to Becky on Tuesday. And, seeing how Becky uses the IFS model of therapy, we broke down what I was feeling into their respective parts. For example: I have a part that hates my mom. I have a protective part that puts up walls (like ignoring texts or calls from my mom). I have a part that I call naïve that holds out hope that someday maybe she'll stop drinking (Becky told me to call this a "hopeful part" instead of naïve). So my "hopeful" part and protective parts butt heads and that's where my internal conflict comes from. Okay . . . I guess that makes sense, on some level. I have a problem picking out my individual "parts". Becky is good at it. She pulled out like 5 or 6 parts in a matter of minutes whereas I couldn't really identify anything other than myself. But apparently my thoughts and conflicts are from my parts. Not "me". I have a hard time grasping this concept. It sounds like mumbo jumbo to me, and I'm not quite sure I buy into all of this yet. But I'll keep going and keep trying to identify parts on my own. Like the skeptical part of me, that isn't "me". This doesn't make sense. ANYWAY, Becky stressed that I don't have a relationship with my "mom" but with a person who is an addict. And that I do need to work on boundaries with her, for my own sanity. If my protective parts had their say I would cut her out of my life for good. But then there's a guilty part that thinks "but she's your mother. How could you do that to your mother??" Because she's a toxic drunk who only really cares about herself! Because just getting a text from her makes me anxious and makes my blood boil! Because I can't stand anything about her! But the guilt persists. And the stupid, annoying little "hopeful" part persists. I'm supposed to embrace these parts and nurture them, find out what they need, and then try to give them that. I'm supposed to do the same with my protective parts, which seems easier because I think "myself" is more in line with their thinking. But, then again, I don't know what "my self" is. I guess this means I have a long way to go in therapy. At least with the IFS model. Wow. That was a lot of rambling.

Anyway, I guess I'm okay over all and I need more therapy and boundaries. And more sunshine and warmth.  

Tuesday 3/14/23 Therapy

 Well, I just got home from therapy and I feel . . . weird. I don't know. 

So I think I've written before that my new therapist uses Internal Family Systems (IFS) as her main mode of, well, doing therapy. IFS basically says that we're made up of all these different parts - none of them "bad" - but all these different parts. Our job in therapy is to get to know these parts and nurture them, love them, give them what they need to thrive and work together inside of us. For example, today we worked with my "body image" part, my inner critic, and my "abandoned child" parts. IFS is completely different than what I'm used to doing in therapy. Mostly what Mike and I did in our sessions was talk therapy with some CBT thrown in for good measure. I've also done DBT and equine therapy. None of this is really that similar to IFS. It's a completely different animal. And it makes me . . . uncomfortable. I think because it is so different. 

I guess an example is warranted, right?

Okay. Let's take my body image part. I closed my eyes and imagined what this part would look like. What characteristics it had, its age, its memories. Everything I could imagine about it. Make it as concrete as possible. My therapist, Becky, guided me through this. How did this part feel? I determined that it was ageless but presented as a younger girl, maybe 7 or 8 years old, and felt ashamed and embarrassed. It felt small and maybe even weak. We tried to determine what this part needed to feel safe (I'm not sure). Maybe love and compassion. What was the earliest memory of this part (overhearing my step-mom comment on my weight and being embarrassed about being seen in my swimsuit after that - we were at a pool). Other things? Never feeling comfortable in my body. Not having confidence in my appearance. Always feeling "fat" or overweight, even when I wasn't. And when I wasn't overweight, not liking attention I was getting. 

I tend to binge eat. I've tried purging in the past but failed because for the life of me I can't make myself throw up. But I binge. In secret (sometimes out in the open, but mostly in secret). Binging because food temporarily makes me feel "better". Makes me feel calm. Makes me feel in control (when in reality I'm out of control). Food gave me a sense of comfort as a child while living in a chaotic, unpredictable environment (growing up with an alcoholic mother). Now, when I feel anxious/depressed/bored/tired/scared/or any number of other things, I binge. To try and seek comfort. To try and feel calm. To feel "better". My inner critic hates this part of me. Tries to shame and belittle it into not binging. Which makes the body image part feel bad and, probably, ultimately binge again. 

My job is to try and nurture this part. Show it compassion. Show it that I care for it and it can trust me. To show it that it doesn't need to binge anymore because I'm with it and care for it. And to give my inner critic another job besides mean-ass drill sergeant. Maybe it can be a coach and gently and lovingly work with the body image part to become better. 

So this is what we did in therapy today. Along with working a little with the abandoned child part of me as well. The abandoned child has been close to me since Mike retired as it was pretty horrifically triggered by that event. I already feel love and compassion for this part of me and have been trying to nurture it since that event. Even when I'm not aware I'm doing it. But now I need to consciously work with this part to heal. 

So yeah. That's IFS in a nutshell. It's totally different and I'm not quite sure how I buy into it yet. Time will tell, I suppose. 

In other news, this past week has been a little bit better mood wise. Although yesterday and this morning I was very meh. I did absolutely nothing yesterday, except read. I felt awful about that and I'm trying not to beat myself up over it (inner critic, I'm talking to you). This morning was also lazy with doing nothing but laundry and reading. I need to workout. I need to do things. I still just have no motivation or drive at all. And I hate that. Legit, really hate that. Even with doing nothing I feel like I have no time to myself. Like it's all work and volunteering and time is slipping away from me. I need to make better use of my time. I really do. But that's hard when the motivation is lacking. 

Anyway, I guess that's it. I have therapy again in 2 weeks. My homework is to be aware of my parts - especially the 3 we worked with today - and start trying to work with them instead of against them. So yeah. That's where I'm at.   

Wednesday 3/8/23 Happy Birthday

 Today Ayden turned 16. It's crazy to think that he's that old. He's been driving and will get his license in August. He has a girlfriend. Just . . . crazy. He's a good kid. I wish his grades were better, but he's a good kid. 

I don't have that much to write about today. This past week has been . . . okay. Not great, but okay. Friday and yesterday I worked and actually felt somewhat decent. More like my old self. My non-depressed self. So that's good. Today I'm a little more down and feel like napping the day away. I did some drawing, started laundry, but I don't know what else to do with myself. I don't feel like reading, or painting, or doing anything. It's annoying. It is what I'm used to though. The no motivation and whatnot with depression. I just wish I was more "okay" today too. Oh well.

I drew a couple of foxes today. I'm still trying to work out a tattoo design. This is my favorite:

It's the one I'm leaning towards, even though it's not in color. We'll see. Probably won't get a new tat until we're back from Japan. 

That's really all I have for today.