The big divide
A friend of mine says that she separates the world into those who have been through therapy and those who haven’t. For me, honestly, I can’t tell the difference. A friend asked me the other day how I was handling all of the issues in my life and I said, “Here’s the deal, number one, get a life coach, number two, go back to therapy, and number three start meditating, and number four … .” Before I could finish, my friend was laughing.
Seriously. I went back to see E today after a while away and it’s odd but going back to someone who has been there when you were going through a separation, a divorce, a parent’s death, an adoption is like going to the source.
I had been thinking about going back to therapy since last summer, but was reluctant because my therapist had gone through some challenging personal issues and I felt awkward talking about my own. But recently, we had started watching In Treatment and watched the first five episodes and I realized there is a time for therapy in everyone’s life.
There are just times when your wires get crossed like mine are right now – I can’t keep my grey zone centered – everything just seems alarmingly black or white. I don’t like my dogs, my cats, my bald head, the weight I’m carrying or a lot of things that I might otherwise not be so bothered by. And yes, Hashimoto’s and alopecia make you more irritable and definitely more focused on yourself and less tolerant of anything that requires you to perform in any way – but that’s not all of it, because I’m sort of grateful for the H and the A as it allows me to say NO, a resounding NO, when I often struggle with that word.
I was at Rouse’s this morning and a woman approached and asked, “How long has it been?” And I nodded in confusion. “Are you in remission? I’ve been for a few years now.” No, no, I don’t have cancer I have a thyroid condition. “Oh, ohhhhh,” she said, “A woman was in here not too long ago had the same thing, she said her hair is never going to grow back.” (inner scream) Well, I’m hoping mine might grow back. Ha. Ha.
E said a lot of her patients had seemed to be returning, and I know it is because she always has been a champion for my “self” and now, when I’m really alienated from my “self,” it’s good to know that someone remembers who I am.
She mentioned that a woman she knows who is young, bald (cancer) and beautiful wears bold red lipstick and big earrings and struts. Wears it. Some days you wear it, and some days you don’t – women get weary. It really just depends on which side of the divide you happen to be standing on at any given time.