I have made much progress in the past six months. My life has changed dramatically. I am getting back to where I was before, much more willing to speak my mind. That used to get me into trouble. And it is probably going to do it again.
I have not learned how to handle confrontation. I have not learned how to contain my emotions and think rationally. I am working on holding my tongue, but I am afraid that I will end up having to just cut it out altogether again.
And the thoughts of death have returned. My death is my solution to everything. If the peanut butter runs out, I must die. Simple as that.
I take my medications daily as prescribed. There have been no changes in them for several months. Medications can do only so much.
Over the past several months, my weekly psychotherapy sessions have dwindled to monthly hour-long med checks, mainly due to changes that I have made in my life. I am now a semi-permanent guest at my boyfriend’s house who happens to live three states away from my mailing address. I drive 200 miles to see my therapist now. My therapist is actually happy for me and accommodates me, as he has for years now. Thing is, my therapist and I both believed that I had found another safe place where I could express myself. My boyfriend told me the other day that he has to read my blog to find out what’s going on with me. So it seems that I am back to square one.
New Year’s Resolution, once again, Physician Heal Thyself.
What kind of horseshit is that? Your boyfriend has to read your blog in order to know what’s going on. Tell your boyfriend that people are allowed some privacy in relationships. Are you also supposed to tell him how many people you’ve slept with? Tell him to mind his own business, and if he wants to know you, all he has to do is sit and talk with you, and if that’s not good enough for him, to find someone else.
I post quite a bit in forums, and I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how the written word can be misinterpreted. I have a specific intention in mind when I write, but somehow it gets lost in translation. I don’t know what to do about it, other than be careful with my words. But even then, I have no control over how it comes across.
jafer, my post was intended to express how closed down I still am, despite the progress that I have made. I am the one that won’t talk. I learned early in life that expressing myself is a bad thing. I turn people away when they ask me what is wrong, that includes my therapist and my boyfriend.
As far as privacy issues, nothing on the internet is “private.” Anyone is welcome to read my blog.
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