So last counseling meeting… hmmm… didn’t talk about much deep crap; though I wish I had stronger nerves so I could talk about it. The counselor is the same one I’ve been seeing; same one that counseling Erik and I. I hadn’t seen him in over four months since I left my last job, so it was playing catch up on what was going on in my life.
But, it seems, even if the session weren’t spent playing “catch up” I don’t know how much I would have talked about. Opening up, well… it’s so hard for me. Everyone tells me I’m supposed to be ok. Look how great my life is! I have a job, which in these times is something in itself to be thankful for. I have a wonderful husband who can clean, cook, and still fix my car. Even got a great little dog.
Why can’t I be happy? What am I missing? The past haunts me so much. I relive things over and over again, so vividly. It takes so much strength and energy to focus on work at work. And still I end up crying.
My counselor asked me what if this is as good as life gets? … hmmm… my reply, and I still stand by it, is that I’m screwed. I know this will be something I live with the rest of my life. Something that won’t go away. Anti-depressants don’t help. Even friends don’t help because I can never fully convince myself someone would actually want to be my friend. It’s easy to convince myself everyone would be better without me in their life. It’s hard. It takes so much energy to snap out of it, to concentrate on what I need to. And then my husband wonders why I’m so tired.
I go back on Wednesday. I hope to be more open. But I’m not sure I can.