Monday

I just read what I wrote last night ... and it remains true.  I'm feeling better today, which is a blessing, but I'm still not great.  What I wrote last night is about a fear of losing control, of not being a partner in my own health decisions and of having people's image of me (strong, smart & self sufficient) diminished in some way.  It's my ego that's going to do me in.  Stupid but true.  Anyway, this morning I feel a little better.  A little more positive.  I still don't know if I'll be able to go to therapy tonight.  My therapist suggested, several weeks ago, that I participate in a group session which, on one hand, I kind of like and, on the other, I hate.  I have such a hard time speaking and now having to do it in front of other people feels impossible.  It makes me feel pathetic and feeble.   I don't know if I'll go tonight.  There are three weeks left.  Three more sessions.  I've skipped like half of the sessions already.  That's not like me, to skip an appointment but it's just hard for me to open up in front of strangers.  Maybe if they were all dealing with the same thing I am, issues from being abused as a child, I would feel more comfortable.  People who haven't experienced what I've experienced can't truly know.  They can't know the shame and powerlessness and sadness and pain associated with those actions.  They can't know and I'm happy for them for that ... but it leads people to say stupid things.  Things intended to help but end up only hurting.  People don't know. I haven't told but whenever someone says something that hurts me I usually just smile and nod and agree with them.  I need to learn to speak up for myself ... or just to speak at all.