Tomorrow, I meet with my therapist (Lopez) for the first time in a month.
He’s been trying to push my appointments back to once a month, but I protested, until now—I felt like things were going pretty good.
And I would say, for the most part, things are pretty good.
You might recall my post last week, which was basically a list of successes I’ve encountered just in the last month. Really exciting!
But over this last year, I’ve found that in moments of success like that, sometimes it’s even more difficult for me to put on a happy face.
I don’t know exactly what it is, but I’ve got one theory.
I feel like I get so excited over these personal victories, but then my high comes crashing to a halt when I realize I’ve got no one to share my success with.
Okay, maybe that’s a little bit dramatic.
I do have good friends.
But I don’t have that guy…you know; the one who’s going to come see me succeed, cheer me on, and tell me how proud of me he is.
Am I pathetic for wanting that?
Over the weekend, I was asked to participate in a literature event; where I would sell books, do an interview, and a reading.
Wow… that’s been one of my biggest dreams for almost 10 years.
I was giddy. And I pictured myself there. And it was amazing.
And then I pictured the event being over, and me, alone, packing up my things and driving home to Blanche, my cat, then me eating leftovers, and crawling into bed by myself.
I know these things take time, and I know, I’ve been through a FUCK TON this year. My emotions are certainly changing every single day.
But I’m just ready for things to be even keel. I’m ready for things to be okay again.