Choosing my own adventure.

I trust my therapist; I think that’s why I’m ok with going down this road toward healing, a road that’s been getting steeper and more terrifying with every step.

Dr. Annie is great. She listens to what I have to say, but she definitely doesn’t let me run the therapy session, and that’s something I value; I am savvy enough to skirt around my blind spots and larger issues, and she just doesn’t let me do that- she’s very adept at steering me back to talking about the things I’m avoiding (consciously or subconsciously). She reminds me of a herding dog, but don’t tell her I said that.

Anyways, last week was a breakthrough sort of week. I went to see Annie with a mouthful of things to say, and they poured out of me in a pretty steady stream- what I was thinking about J, how I had figured out parts of our dynamic, things that were wrong, things that were becoming right, etc. I finished up my diatribe by asking her how I could stop getting involved with men that are emotionally distant, how I could avoid getting into a relationship in which I feel a need to “help” my partner (I have a track record).

Instead of giving me advice or answers, she asked me what I got out of my interactions with emotionally unavailable men- she kept asking things like “Why do you hold onto relationships like that?” and “What do you get out of feeling like you need to help your partner?” etc. I kept thinking, and thinking, and finally, it hit me.

I *do* get something out of these relationships, something very important to me. When I’m in a relationship that I’m not satisfied by, I’m not really in a relationship at all, and that makes me feel safe. If the man I’m with is emotionally distant, or if I feel like I need to “help” him become more outgoing or creative or whatever for our relationship to truly be at it’s full potential, I’m not really in the relationship, inside it, being loved and loving. When I’m in these “helper” relationships, I’m simultaneously totally focused on the other person in the relationship (How can I get So-And-So to be more ______________? How can I work on our problems? Maybe if I just work harder at _________, things will get better) and distanced from being in the relationship by my intellectual analysis. I feel completely and totally absorbed and yet I am not present because of that absorption, if that makes sense. When I am not present, I am safe- I get to stand outside of the experiment, playing the role of the invested yet distanced researcher; I may not be happy, but at least I’m not totally invested, totally me, present to myself and my needs, not trying to heal someone else, not trying to be perfect for someone else, not trying to carry someone else’s burdens for them. It seems terrifying to just relax into being me, to not bear the whole of the responsibility for the relationship. By being so absorbed in what I feel I need to do to be loved, I never stop to think about the sort of person I would want to love. I keep chugging along like the Little Engine That Could…if he was all cracked out and co-dependent.

After I said all of this to Annie, she smiled and said, “Does this remind you of your mother’s relationship with your father? She’s so focused on how he’s ruined her life so she never has to look at her own responsibilities to herself, her own decision to stay engaged in a relationship with him. Who really ruined your mother’s life?”

What can I say to that? That’s painfully true.

So I have all of this new information to chew on. I have a new way of looking at my own role in my unsatisfying relationships.

Now I get to start figuring out what to do with all of this. I am scared shitless, but I’m going to find my way out. Right now, I’m rewriting the choose-your-own-adventure book that is my life, and the choices are going to be healthier, dammit.

The Pea

She is buried.
Pressed by the weight of muffling mattresses,
Small and insistent, the knot in my neck come morning,
Dreams of half-eaten marzipan passions
Lying dormant under strata of excuses
She is buried, alive.
Is that all that is left, a tiny seed of wild life poking into my slumber?
Don’t give up, little one.
I’ll remember I’m a princess.

Avoidance and Meaning

I just finished my first read-through of the Diana’s Grove Mystery School Pisces packet, and I can’t get these lines out of my head:

“Just do the work that is before you to do, ” she said. “When is your search for meaning simply avoidance? When is your search for a calling a way to ignore the prayer that stands before you?”

Wow. That hit me, hard. I can think of so many times when I want to look past what is right in front of me, what I can make right in front of me, in search of a calling, a “greater” thing, “more meaningful” work. I think of all the times that I rush through the day-to-day interactions, trying to get them out of the way so that I can….what? Wait on a revelation? Search for something I don’t have that I need, I must have, to make a difference? Yes, probably, certainly- I have done that. I continue to do it. I have ignored the prayer of my days, the prayer of the moments of my life. In longing for an excellent moment, I miss out on the chance to make my moments excellent.

I feel called to focus- on my moments, on each step, each dish I wash, each piece of laundry I fold, each conversation I have. I want to make each moment sacred, each small task and process a testament to my devotion to the song of life (can you hear my Virgo Moon speaking to you?). And yet, I know at times I spin away into searching for more- a larger role, a grand place where I am handed my own meaning (that’s my Leo Sun). When I am truthful with myself, I know that that moment of brilliance may never come. I know and yet I still succumb to the dream. I have a 12th house.

The question that has been helpful to me is not “How do I stop avoiding?” but “How can I notice that I’m avoiding?” I don’t have the whole answer…but I know that, for me, it lies on a path that starts with listening to my breath, noticing my behavior patterns, questioning my stories, and as the bartender in the packet says, doing the work of not looking away. Yikes.