enfinblue's Bluey (credit to Fifi for the nickname!) Diaryland Diary

"I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart." -Vinc3nt V@n Gogh

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Mantra mantra mantra

I can honestly say that this therapist dude is WORTH HIS WEIGHT IN GOLD. I would pay him double - and I'm already paying him a lot - if I had more money.

I say that sincerely. He identified some major inner conflicts, gave me unbelievable insights into my relationship with my mother, helped me to think more clearly about my relationship with my dad, and helped me to realize why I feel divided into two people (the miserable "fake" economist person), and the sunny, creative, bubbly person.

I'm feeling more optimistic about the future. Can you tell?

So Italy or no Italy, it doesn't exactly matter. But clearly, Italy works for me because when I'm in Italy I'm the person who I think is my "real" self, and when I'm back here in Ottawa I pretty quickly sink back into having to be that "fake" self.

Interestingly, I didn't think that I was having a particularly bad day today, but after about an hour and a half of my session (it was long - I really should have paid the guy double), he said that I seemed to have relaxed into myself and that when I'd come in he could see that I was troubled.

Anyhow. I won't bore you further. I have hope that this is going to work and balance me better into the person I was meant to be, a person who can function in a more complete and peaceful way in the world. I don't want to live buried under pain any longer.

So the Italy thing. I realized that the only thing that I lose if I go to Italy is money. And we all know that I'll have more money in future, but as the future moves forward I'll have less and less time. In other words, time is much more valuable than money at this point in time. So, if I sacrifice money that I was trying not to spend, I'm doing it in order to live for 12 days (really - I got permission to be away from work for 12 days!!!!) as the me whom I really like...in ITALY!

It really isn't about M.

Soooo...I just have to convince the "thinking" me who is burdened with all of those fears and the guilt that my mother taught me (not blaming her here, but telling the truth) that I should go with the intuitive, feeling me on this one.

I hope that the intuitive, feeling voice wins out. I could be in ITALY FOR NEW YEAR'S EVE!!! (Of course I could also be in NYC for NYE, which is also a good option.) I am so lucky. I am so lucky.

You know, I even said this to the therapist, that I feel like I've been really, really lucky in some ways. I mean, "God" on my side or something in my life. Somewhere along the line someone - probably my dad - gave me enough of a lifeline to feeling nurtured and loved that I've been able to find and make friends in my life who have been like angels to get me through. I don't want to go all spiritual on you or anything, but I can never forget that I've had friends who have helped me to hang on to hope. I said to the therapist that in a lot of ways I've long felt sorry for my mother, since I don't think that she has any friends. It's weird to say that, but I think that my mother's abilities in terms of intimacy are very limited.

I often feel really shitty about myself. The primary reason, believe it or not, is not at all that I don't think I'm smart enough or pretty enough or likeable enough. It's that I don't think that I care enough about other people. I don't think that I'm sufficiently kind. I think I'm selfish. To a certain degree I AM selfish, because I've been struggling in a lot of ways. And the guy helped me to realize that it is true that you have to be genuinely compassionate towards yourself before you can be compassionate towards other people. This gave me more hope for my future, that I can be a better person. It is true, what they say: love is the only thing that can motivate you to be a better person. In one fell swoop this guy swept me from my dominant pattern of thinking that I didn't get enough love to thinking that I did. Just enough to build hope, and just enough to sweep away a lot of the cruelty. Instead of thinking of my dad only in terms of loss, I can now see my (however brief) relationship with him as this little gem that I can carry with me forever with which to grow hope.

You've got to be thankful that you somehow, by some stroke of magic and goodness of the universe scraped through. I am very conscious of the fact that I've been lucky. If you are lucky. If you're healthy. If you're loved. Here, I've got to quote my favourite Carol Shields bit, from Unless: (Note: the narrator is translating the named author's works from French.)

Unless is the worry word of the English language. It flies like a moth around the ear, you hardly hear it, and yet everything depends on its breathy presence. Unless - that's the literal subjunctive mineral you carry along in your pocket crease. It's always there, or else not there. (If you add a capital s to unless you get Sunless, or Sans Soleil, a very odd Chris Marker film.)

Unless you're lucky, unless you're healthy, fertile, unless you're loved and fed, unless you're clear about your sexual orientation, unless you're offered what others are offered, you go down in the darkness, down to despair. Unless provides you with a trapdoor, a tunnel into the light, the reverse side of not enough. Unless keeps you from drowning in the presiding arrangements. Ironically, unless, the lever that finally shifts reality into a new perspective, cannot be expressed in French. A moin que doesn't have quite the heft; sauf is crude. Unless is a miracle of language and perception, Danielle Westerman says in her most recent essay, "The Shadow of the Mind." It makes us anxious, makes us cunning. Cunning like the wolves that crop up in the most thrilling of fairy tales. But it gives us hope.

10:51 p.m. - 2008-12-05

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