I'm okay today, I say, even before she asks.
She regards me somewhat dubiously.
I clarify. I feel good today. My relationships are under control. I worked on being independent this week. It's been rather 'freeing.'
I hate that pseudo-psychobabble word, but it's apt.
I feel good today. Really good.
Well, she says, that's wonderful.
Donna keeps a throw pillow on a nearby chair. There's a pithy quote embroidered on it: Too much of a good thing is wonderful.
The only problem with wonderful is that it makes it hard to pass fifty minutes on the couch.
We chat about my relationship with my mother.
Under control, I say.
How so? she asks.
I tell her how I've been able to say 'no' to my mother. A rather large step for me. My mother has this way of making everything about her. Only recently I've been able to disconnect when she becomes determined to strong-arm our conversations.
The lessons I'm learning about my mother are hard ones, but necessary. And they're finally beginning to hit home. Because, she will never love me the way I want or need to be loved. Expecting her to love me in such a way is unrealistic and self-defeating.
This used to depress me. Now it's merely fact. And in accepting that, I've been happier and nicer to myself. I've stopped running after my mother. I cater to myself more. Self-care. That's the name of the psychotherapy game.
It carries over into the last two weeks' exercise. Over the last two weeks, I was supposed to live 'hands off.' Hands off all the controls. Hands off my relationships. Caretaker to no one but myself.
Easier said than done.
The first few days it's hard to shake the role. Care taking, especially for women, becomes so ingrained. Without someone else's needs to direct me, I don't know what to do with myself. But once I hit my stride, once I get my grubby little hands off the wheels--and this is by sheer strength of will--I have one of the most productive two weeks in memory.
I wrote daily. I drew. I painted. I started a long-neglected exercise program. I made plans to see two concerts I would not normally have allowed myself to go to. I was offered a full-time job with an employer I adore.
Go To Page: 1 2
