Ending Therapy

For the last half of this semester I choose to seek therapy for some pervasive and obnoxious thoughts. It’s all good now and she really helped to normalize what I was doing and realize that I have have control over things in my life.

Sometimes I wonder what higher education does to a person. I used to be happy. I say that like I’m totally miserable all the time, but that’s not the case. Promise. I can still find the silver lining in just about any situation, and my prac cohort has really given me some awesome reasons to smile on a regular basis. Not to mention having Hubs here is a thrill all in its own.

My point is: I overthink things. A LOT. If I don’t force myself to be “in the moment” I am frequently outside myself thinking of things in the past that I said or did or what the reaction was of the other person and how I could have done things differently and how that would have caused them to react and then it just goes on and on and on. If its not the past, it’s the future and I think about what my actions would do to those around me and how I would handle it, and what if I did it differently and how the reaction would be then or based off of previous experience how they might or might not say to me and on and on and on. Even as I was writing those sentences my mind was wandering to work and next semester and my childhood and having babies. My brain is busy. All the time. And I can’t figure out a way to turn it off or slow it down.

Some might say that it is a good thing that my mind is always on. It’s good because I can usually come up with an answer at a moments notice. It’s bad, because I can’t hardly stay for used on one thing for long enough to actually see it get done the first time. Luckily, it hasn’t affected my sleep yet. Once that happens, I don’t know what I would do.

Again, back to the main point of all this: I loved therapy. I loved my therapist. She called me “high-functioning” which is like, the HIGHEST compliment you can get in therapy. At the end of our sessions, she wanted me to reflect on what I go out of therapy that can help me in the real world. Because I am the way I am, I tried to give some highbrow, intellectual answer. She was kind when she told me it was complete crap. This program has damaged the way I think as a normal, non-student person.

Once she called me out on it, I stumbled to think of something personal that I landed for myself. We hugged, we parted ways. Of course, again, because I am the way I am, I then started to over think the answer I gave. I was able to better quiet my mind, but I still think about it a little and I’ve come up with this:
1. It’s okay for me to be happy. Ecstatic even. Happiness is not a flaw.
2. It’s okay for me to smile. Other emotions are okay to express, too.
3. It’s okay to be in the moment. I can take time for myself and enjoy life.
4. It’s okay to plan, but not forever. I should focus on the most likely scenario. Plan for the worst, hope for the best.

Isn’t that strange? Something that most children know without hesitation has been so “beaten” out of me during my time at the university that I have to tell myself to enjoy life? But I’m not going to spend any more time on it today. That’s progress.

The (Hopefully) Distant Future

What is the verb for FaceTime? I FaceTimed? Sounds good. Calvin was right:

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I chatted on FaceTime with my parents the other day. Dad has been aging as I would expect. He’s still a handsome man, but obviously in his 50’s. I was struck by how, and this is going to sound awful, *old* my mother looked. I’ve been fighting with these feelings for the last few days.

I haven’t been very close with my mom over the last few years. It’s sad. I know plenty of people who have very close relationships with many people at the same time. Some days I feel like I just can’t handle that much interaction. Facebook must have been made for people like me; able to see everything, but not be overly involved in everything at the exact same time.

I feel like my relationship with my parents has been tentative since I went away to college. To this day I don’t feel that I was fully, mentally prepared for it. It was exciting, don’t get me wrong. I just feel that I had to grow up too fast in a very short amount of time. (Is this what a quarter life crisis feels like?) Hell, the summer before college was probably the nail in that coffin.

Moving on. I want a closer relationship with them. I don’t want to wait until after grad school. God forbid something happen to them before I’m finished. I have a real problem with being proactive lately. I need to work on making my scheduling skills better. If I can plan for it, maybe it won’t feel so scary. Not that I think my parents are scary. Getting down to it, I worry that they don’t approve of what I’m doing here.

Grad School Interview Day

10:45am – I’m here. This is freaking me out. So far, I’m the first one to show up. Is that good or bad?
I have so many questions and of course I can’t think of them at this point to actually write them down.  Oma gave me with too much stuff to bring. It’s all done out of love. She saddled me with an umbrella, water bottle, bag of dried fruit, an apple and more dog hair on my brand new pants than I can shake a lint roller at.
Like mentioned, I was the first one here. When I walked into the office, the receptionist seemed to have no idea there there is anything special going on today. Strange, right? If you are part of something this huge, shouldn’t you know the gist of what is happening from day to day? Or, at the very least, on important days?

Interview about who we are, from where we are, what we hope to accomplish, etc. Boring BS, blah blah blah.

12:37pm – This is the worst tour ever. Our guide has been out of classes for 2 whole sememsters because she only needs one more summer class to graduate. This causes her to talk about nothing but food options around campus and where to get the best iced coffee drinks.

12:42pm – I was compared to Isla Fisher. Awesome.

Free lunch! Yesss!

13:30pm – The girl with whom I have aligned myself is a total one-upper, very dedicated and VERY ambitious. Bitch. She’s getting a spot for sure.

13:51 – I get my period. Great timing, Uterus. Just…great.

Program and faculty overview.  There are two male professors; one is most certainly gay, the other may be, but I find myself thinking that I could give him a run for his money. I probably shouldn’t think that about a future academic superior, right?

14:55 – Totally separate person compares me to Isla Fisher. Is there something to this that I’m not seeing? Maybe it’s my blazer? New pants?

Group interview, which is more like group project time on the concept of intimacy. They openly tout this as a way to see our interactions in a group setting. I waste no time speaking up and setting myself out as a leader. Unfortunately, half the group seemed to have that exact same mentality. I feel confident in the points that I made. Halfway thru, I decided to stand out by playing role of mediator instead of taking a side. I think that worked in my favor.

15:45pm – Closing statemens from the dean, awkward goodbyes and “hope to see you in the fall” sentiments to everyone we had the briefest of conversations with over the course of the day.

I finally exhale. What a day. With this interview done, I feel as tho I could find a real home in this university. However, I’m no closer to deciding how I feel about possibly putting my marriage and future offspring on hold for a school which I still have tepid feelings towards.
It’s all up to them now. If they choose me, I’ll go with my head held high and a willingness to learn what I set out to learn. If not, then I get to save the cost of a moving van. Four weeks before I’ll know anything. Let’s the angst begin.