So I got a nice, solid, middling C in my BIOSCI100 class. Not amazing but definitely good enough. That’s the good news.
The bad news is I found out I need at least 4 more classes to graduate from the program, two of which I’m already anxious about.
I need a history class, a poli-sci class, and not one, but two math classes. The math classes are freaking me out because quite simply, I’m not good at math and I have to do one level higher than the one I failed multiple times already. Ugh.
I will definitely need tutoring, but I really hope that will give me the extra help I need.
The other thing is the added courses will make it really hard to finish all the core classes before the date I planned to enter the actual MLT program. I made a plan, but honestly it’s going to depend on what classes are available when.
Fuck dude. Shit just got real.
My therapist asked me to write about my own success story as a kind of graduation out of one on one therapy. To start with how I felt when I started with her a year ago, and end with how I feel about myself today. This is what I wrote.
A year ago I started therapy. I was anxious, even scared, about what it would be like. I wasn’t taking care of myself. I wasn’t bathing, or sleeping well, or putting on clean clothes. I worried about everything. I had just broken up with my now ex-boyfriend and my entire world was upside down. I had to move back in with my mom and I didn’t want to. I was worried about living with her because we didn’t have the best relationship when I was a child.
I learned pretty quickly that my therapist was non-judgemental, and open to discussing whatever I needed to talk about that week. She gave me a safe space to not worry about what might be thought of me, and to reflect on myself with her gentle guidance. At the same time, I started doing things that let me feel in control of my body, since I couldn’t control anything else in my life right then. This took the form of several piercings, some easily visible, some more intimate. I changed my hair. I started wearing make-up more often. I showered. I put on clean clothes.
I got a puppy, and I started cleaning the house. I slowly stopped worrying about the things that had bothered me- if my pup was safe, if I was safe, if I would have a place to live. My piercings became less frequent, though I still got a few new ones, as well as a tattoo. The word WORTHY on my foot. Because I am.
I learned to look at things that had happened to me in a different way. My mom did the best she could for me. Not all the bad things that happened to me as a child were her fault. She loves me and thinks I’m just fine the way I am. Realizing that made a big difference in how I felt living with her and her boyfriend, and things got better.
I realized my ex was even more of a self-centered, bullying, and verbally and emotionally abusive asshole than I had let myself see before we broke up. Good riddance to bad garbage. I stopped talking to him completely and blocked him on social media. There was nothing good he brought into my life. I felt good about that.
All of these changes, and talking about these things while my therapist reframed them for me to consider made me see I am worthy of my own love and affection. I am worthy of others’ love and affection. I am worth working on to become a better, strong, more emotionally secure person. I’m worth taking care of. I am, all of me, worth it. I’m smart. I’m capable. I’m a good craft artist and a great dog mom. I can and do learn new things all the time. I can take care of myself and I can be my own success story. I am not a failure.
I AM WORTHY.
I’m literally lying in bed trying not to throw up. I’ve already vomited four times this evening, of course right after I took my evening meds. My anxiety levels are through the roof because there was a big “this changes everything” moment this afternoon and my brain, my stupid girl brain, is freaking out. I saw my therapist today but I still haven’t told her everything about this situation because I feel guilty about it. I know when I do tell her, and I will, she’s going to ask me to tell her why I felt guilty.
The person I’ve been been casually seeing since Mattie and I broke up, his (negligent, absent) wife finally agreed to a divorce. And at the same time, my feelings are changing in a way I’ve seen before. Several times over the last 15 years that we’ve known each other, we’ve come together and I always end up with feelings towards him. But the other times I backed off, kept it light, and made sure nothing came of it because I didn’t want to be tied to anyone.
But now it’s different and the news of his wife’s decision tells me something will change, but it could go so many ways and I hate the not knowing. My anxiety is ramped up because I like to tackle things head-on, as soon as they arise, and I can’t do that now. I have to wait and see what happens, continue to be a supportive friend (because he is my friend and a good friend) and not drop my crap on him right now because Holy mother of Batman this is the worst possible timing for a case of the feels.
But fuck me. This is hard and I’m equally fucked up about his emotional state right now as I am my own. I feel unstable. I feel unsure. I feel afraid and worried. And even though I’m an emotional hot mess all of a sudden, I still want to mother hen the crap out of him to make him feel better.