(no subject)

[solitary_summer]

[There's some kind of mental block that keeps me from writing, I swear. I keep the update window open, even type a few words here, half a sentence there, I want to write, I believe I should write, but I end up clicking around aimlessly, refreshing my flist, refreshing YouTube in order to check whether a certain kind soul has uploaded another episode of Oz yet (*), looking for decent Torchwood (**) fic... And. Just. Can't. Write. Blockade, avoiding, and I'm not quite sure what exactly it is I am avoiding. My life, most likely.]



So, the story about how I finally came to see a therapist. A few weeks ago my aunt, whom (for complicated personal & family-related reasons there's no point going into at this junction) I haven't seen or spoken to in years, suddenly turned up at work, and after an initial moment of guilt and panic it was really easy when I 'd imagined horrible awkwardness, silence and apologies for I never really knew what, and we decided to meet for coffee. Again, uncomplicated; we had a long talk about family, personal issues, the past, my struggling with depression. And it surprised me how easily I could talk about my problems with her, even after more than five years of silence, in the way I just can't with my parents. More importantly, what was so wonderful and, in a way, helpful to me, was that with her I didn't feel guilty, or weak, or unreasonable or as if I've failed expectations in some way, as I invariable do with my parents, even if no such accusations are made. She gave me the feeling (probably partly because she's been a social worker and has experience with such things) that what I have are legitimate problems with actual reasons, rooted in my family situation, whereas my father only told me I must think positive, when I said that life had no meaning for me, and my mother reacts with helpless awkwardness.

It meant a lot, being actually able to talk about this, and getting understanding. Being told that I'm moving in the right direction, even if it isn't easy. Getting a little more clarity, and the confirmation that I can maybe move away from this, find my own path. And while I have to keep in mind that her perspective isn't unbiased, either, she gives me an outside perspective on the mess that was/is my family, which is also very helpful.

Also, going back in time with someone I've last talked to before the worst of depression hit, made me realise that I really have changed over the last years, even if it often doesn't feel like that, even if I still feel so stuck; how much distance I've gained, how much introspection. More mature at least in some ways, more open, willing and able to address and talk about certain issues.

She called me a few days later and gave me the name of a friend of hers, a therapist she knew from work, and that put just enough pressure on me to actually overcome my cowardice and lethargy and pick up the phone and call, although I don't like to consider what it says about my level of grown-up-ness that I needed to be practically - not dragged screaming and kicking, not quite that -, but certainly given a hard shove to actually seek out help. I just really hope this will help. I'm tired of this minimalistic half-life I'm leading, being stuck in this limbo-esque space, and perhaps this will help me being able to take the necessary step forward.




On a lighter note, you know you've watched too many tv shows with fantasy and/or supernatural elements when your first thought on hearing (in the context of an entirely different, more or less reality based show; Oz ) that a woman murdered her daughter because she believed she was possessed by the devil is not 'She is clearly insane and ought to be in a mental institution and not on death row'(***), but that you actually give the idea half a semi-conscious thought until someone else on tv says just that, and you catch yourself and mentally go oops...



(*) Oh dear. And here I'd thought I'd shipped fucked-up couples before. And just when I was mentally complaining that it turned a little soap-opera-esque in S4, they come up with an episode like Cuts Like A Knife, which had me literally gasping and holding my breath for the last ten minutes or so, because. Oh. My. God.


(**) Full fangirl mode. ::sigh:: Scoured the internet & now have a pretty Gwen wallpaper on my desktop and lots of others in my screen-saver folder, which I will happily stare at changing for minutes, oh yes. I can't even pin-point why this show struck such a chord with me - it's not all that original; too Buffy/Angel-esque at times (But hey, if you're going to ste-- be inspired, than at least by the best, and at least they did the 'let's betray our leader in a crisis under the influence of an evil power impersonating dead loved ones and trying to destroy the world' thing after only twelve episodes where relationships, despite some trust building, are still rather brittle and untested, and not after 140 only to give Buffy and Spike that final bonding moment (****)), but it's so charming, I really liked the characters, and I guess everyone already knew I was going to order the dvds anyway, right. ::sigh::


(***) Not that anyone should be, IMO, regardless of the state of their mental health, in case this doesn't go without saying.


(****) Footnote of footnote, JW can convince me of almost anything, but this is one of the two instances where I really feel he is jerking some characters around too hard only to achieve a certain effect/story-line for others. (The other instance would be Gunn, Fred and Cordelia so immediately and wholly turning on Wesley in AtS S3, in order to set off his angsty S3/4 arc and his relationship with Lilah.) And not telling James Marsters that Spike was supposed to get a soul rather than get rid of the chip, that wasn't all that brilliant, either, while we're at it.

Comments

[wlotus.livejournal.com]

I hope the therapy helps, too. It'll take time, but it's worth the time and effort, to get your life back.