THE NOT-SO BIG REVEAL OUT OF HIDING!

Always have to start with Maybelline.  She's the beginning and the end of my world.

Today sucks.  I hate today.  I feel depressed because I'm fat.  I am having some distressing gastrointestinal issues going on, and they are wreaking havoc on my body and making me feel fat . . . . which in turn makes me depressed.  So I've been hiding in my apartment all day.

So I thought of one thing that might make me feel better today which is to stop hiding behind an anonymous screen and reveal my picture and identity. 

I’ve been thinking about revealing my identity for a while, but up until 2015 I was studying to be a teacher or working as a teacher, and I didn’t think it would be prudent to expose myself in such a vulnerable way in such an important role.  However, I’m not working now, so I can take more risks, and I’m ready to take some now.  I would say my life is boring and safe right now in many ways.  I’m not taking chances in recovery.  I hold up the same walls to Therapist that I usually do.  I just play it safe and if you always do the things you’ve always done, you will always get what you’ve always gotten.

And for some reason, I want more now.  I’m hungry for some type of change.  Something to shake up things.  (I don't know who is saying this because it's not coming from me.) I don’t know what change looks like, what it is, or how to get it.  Normally I hate change.  Still do.  And when it comes time to enacting change, I’ll probably avoid it.  But for now I’ll take my first step and reveal my identity.  


So my name is Becca, and these are some of pictures below.

Hi!  I'm Becca and this is my frizzy, curly hair.

Maybelline and I fell asleep together, and Husband was mean enough to take a picture.

Maybelline loves to rest on my chest.  I think it's my heartbeat she likes to hear.

Always snuggling.  She is my world.

1 of 2 pictures without Maybelline.  What can I say?

Well, now you know.  My name is Becca and I have curly hair.  Not quite an NBC reveal, but it will have to do.  I'll change my avatar soon on IG and Twitter.  I invite you to look at my Instagram page @Run_Becca_Run if you would like to see more pictures of me, Maybelline, and all things inspiration.

I'd love to hear from you!

How do you feel about revealing or not revealing your identity?

Does anything scare you about it?

GETTING BETTER: THE CONUDRUM

Maybelline learning to solve a puzzle for her treats.

Pieces Taken from Wednesday’s Journal Entry

Guess I’ve occupied myself well enough today.  Most of the depression lingering in my soul is dissipating.  Did some cleaning today and cooking.  Breaded pork loin chops, sauteed cabbage, and mashed potatoes were made.  Wasn’t too bad.  Better than the pigs in a blanket I failed at making yesterday.  

I’m listening to the same song on repeat called “Good Enough” by Sarah McLachlan, and she has two lines in it that hit me right in the heart.  She sings, “And I don’t understand; you deserve so much more than this.”  I wish someone would say that to me.

The Birth Parents didn’t really do anything growing up to help with self-esteem or mental health in general.  No kind words of appreciation or kudos for doing something really difficult.  I guess they were clueless.  Neither one of them is very emotional.  

So I see Therapist tomorrow.  What to talk about?  I never know because I don’t want to get better.  The thought of "growing up" and going out now, taking on responsibility and  being an adult is terrifying, and I don’t want it.  I don’t even want to try . . . again.  

Something in me likes staying at hiome, walking Maybelline, cooking dinner, grocery shopping.  I don’t want to give this up for an uncertain future.  And I know I will go back to my  maladaptive coping mechanisms.  

I’ve continued thinking seriously about a writing career and going back to school for my Masters in Professional Writing.  But as I was working on creative writing exercises today, one assignment was to write about a childhood memory.  Ummm?  No!  So a Masters program would likely have that assignment.  The creative exercise recommended writing about 1,500 words.  I squeaked out 150 words.  I decided to write on the time I almost drowned.  It’s a work in progress, and I feel at the mercy of my parts.

I haven’t blogged lately.  There are no words, no ideas.  Nothing I have to say. The depression flattens everything, especially my words. The only part I’ve connected to is Tina and her love (too strong a word) of cooking.  

With the depression, I would think Victoria would be around to say something.  Actually, I’m reminded she did write on Monday.  Oopsie.

Reflecting on why I continue to see Therapist: why do I still have sessions when I don’t want to get better?  I would answer that two-fold.  1) what if he’s my last hope?  What if I somehow, someway did want to get better?  What would I do without him? Seeing him is like insurance just in case I change my mind.  2) Attention.  Yes, we are that desperate.  We get attention from him.  Not as much as we would like.  He has no reaction to what we say.  He’s greatly in check of his emotions, and I think it’s appropriate most of the time, but not always.  Sometimes it’s good to show you can be human.

Goals.

Someone always has to mouth off, and maybe one day I'll love her for it.

Eating my Silence

Suspend what you think you know, and hear everything that needs to be said, wants to be said, has to be said, but the words are eaten by silence.

 

You don't know with whom you are dealing.

Ask no questions.

Avoiding

Pardon us while we wax philosophical. We are in the middle of a switch...

It is dark in my room. I've succumbed to the internal pressure of my members to blog. It's been a while since we blogged but no worries here. New insights have been gained and a new committal to therapy has taken place. A new attitude had developed that therapy has to be uncomfortable, it isn't pretty, it's going to hurt, but I will heal and be able to live a better life.

Our T. keeps telling us how we avoid the topics that we need to explore in order to heal. That is somewhat true, although we've done a much better job of owning up and sharing the painful and embarassing details we'd rather leave out. It's hard to NOT avoid. For ex, we've been avoiding this blog since October because it's so hard to figure out just what to say. We get nervous going to Randy's, our T. Despite reassurances from him, we worry if he'll judge us, think negatively of us, not want to help us anymore. Our husband sees a T. and we've asked him if he gets nervous when he goes and he says no. Maybe it's just us.

Randy gave us an assignment in our last session and we haven't done it. We're avoiding it. :)