Just got home from meeting with my Calc professor. I feel no better or worse now. I really do feel as numb as I ever have. If I can get admissions to sign off the papers tomorrow, well, I don’t want to talk about it.
Everyone keeps saying that I need to do what’s best for me. I actually do appreciate that. But I have no idea what that means. I realized that in my first therapy appointment today when the psychologist informed me that therapy had to be about me, not what I needed to do with the people around me. Basically, I’m supposed to be the center of it. I still do not really comprehend what that means.
For example, I knew I had to drop my two classes, but my fear was due to the fact that I will let down my friends and my kids. If there was anyway I thought I could even guarantee a C in each class I’d probably keep trying just because of that, even if it pushed me all the way off the edge.
Religion 101 teaches that you are to put yourself last. OK, there might be religions that don’t, but that is Christianity. Jesus, Others, You. That’s the way you get “JOY.” Add to that all the abusive components to religious families and the church and you get some really fucked up people. There are only two types of people in a church, those who serve everyone, and those who demand service. Sometimes it’s hard to tell the two apart because some Christians (like my parents and ex) play the public game well that you don’t know that at home life is hell.
Also, Christianity, and almost all other cultures on earth, demand that children place their parents above everything else. Christianity and Judaism, if you take their holy books at its word, demand you kill children, or at least cast them out of fellowship, if they don’t.
When I tried to speak out against my parents’ abuse, I was told repeatedly that I was a terrible and ungodly person.
This cycle repeats for women who are told to serve and obey their husbands and are also silenced when they try to speak out about abuse.
I have absolutely no idea how the hell to truly put myself first in anything more than survival mode, during which I retreat into my room so I don’t bother anyone else with my grief.
Yesterday, I took an extra minute and shaved in the shower. That really is the depth of my self-care. Anytime I try to do something nice for myself I recall my mother’s ugly words, both my parents’ and my ex’s selfish behavior, and the church’s admonishment that I am an evil person for wanting something…anything…nice for myself.
And that is where I was at 11am. I’m not sure where I am now. I scheduled this post because I’d already had a scheduled post just about two hours ago. I know, that shouldn’t matter, but it would make me feel guilty to take up a person’s feed with my blog posts.
Yeah, I have nooo idea how I’m going to make therapy about myself.