The new therapist.

At yesterday's session I finally got a comment from a therapist that I could relate to. You see, I sometimes think they are there so you can 'cure' yourself. After all, how easy is it to manipulate and control a situation? If you're just a little clever you can manage the therapist to think that things are OK when they clearly are not - and to be honest, I'm pretty good at that... I know, it's not really honest or the right way of doing this, but I manage situations all the time so I'm bloody good at it!

So, here is a new 'head lady' that sees right trough my little plot and makes me open up and say things that I've never told another human being. To call her manipulative would be wrong, to call her clever would be more accurate. Maybe it's also because I might have actually admitted to myself that I need help. That this will not just 'blow over and disappear' as I so wish it would, but that I have to deal with Dawie's death as a reality and not just try and carry on with my life. The fact is that I hide things - compartmentalise would be a good phrase, very very well. I can place things in little boxes and pack them away. The problem is, this little matter does not want to be packed away. It's like a darkness that keeps on crawling out of the box and back into my phyche.

The one thing she mentioned yesterday that really struck me was that I have never made the time to look after myself. Yes, I cope very well with making sure others are OK - I nursed Dawie during his illness, I help my family with their problems and finances, I help friends with their needs - making time for everybody I know, except for myself. It's easy dealing with others problems - it makes my own disappear for a little while, but it does not solve them. It does not make me feel better. On a superficial level maybe it does, but not deep down inside where it's needed. What a realization...

The other thing we talked about was the anniversary of Dawie's death on the 24Th. Now, I really do not want to face this but she suggested to make this a 'event' with close friends and family, and that we celebrate Dawie's life. Will think on this - but the idea has merit. Not entirely sure how to go about that though...

So, with three weeks to go to my Summer holidays, and work taking up most of my time at the moment, and emotions running amok at the same time, I close off this little episode of the 'gays of my life'...

TTFN

I've been a bad little blogger...

I'm not going to try and make excuses and tell you that I was in hospital or seriously ill or anything feeble like that. No, I'll just come right out and say it like it is/was - I have lost my inspiration to write and blog. There. That's it really...

And to be completely honest, I have not really got it back yet, but after speaking to my 'new' therapist last week, she suggested that I start writing again as a release for my emotional turmoil and 'basic fuckedupness'... So, here goes y'all!

My life is in a strange place at the moment. Work wise it could not be better - a new promotion and a better position in the company. Moved to the top floor of the building and have stunning view over the city of Jozie - that's if it does not rain all the time, but I digress. Financially I'm secure which is a true blessing in this time of financial turmoil and disaster, and I can even say that my physical health is pretty good - eating right and getting a little exercise as well.

But it's my emotional well being that is, well, for lack of a better word - a total disaster. I've been hiding behind everything I can think of not to think about Dawie and his death. I've been 'dating' young boys for a while to escape the reality of losing my wonderful husband. I've not spoken about him for weeks, and avoided any situation where he would be 'present' - and yet he is present in everything that happens in my life.

I cannot stop for a moment and give myself time - got to be busy all the time in order not to grieve, and it's catching up with me... I need to grieve, but cannot for the life of me get myself to 'let go' as I should. I always tell myself to grow up and be a man when all I want to really do is crawl into a small space and die.

I know this is 'pretty heavy' for a post - especially since I have not blogged for such a long time, but there is so much pent up anger and frustration that I honestly do not know how to handle this anymore. I've gone back to see a therapist - someone new that was referred to me by a friend, and I think she understands me a lot better than the previous one who thought it would be okay to tell my I'm cured after a few sessions. I cannot deal with this anymore. Honestly. Why should I want to? My little 'facade' is one of bravery and dealing with life, but my inside is a mess...

So - this is me trying to sort out my life now. I will use this blog to rant and rave and do whatever I need to to get trough this, and I don't blame you for not wanting to read here anymore - or not visiting. It will be used as a space to get my feelings out in the open and deal with stuff that I've been hiding forever - and this will be the space for very few people actually know who I am - and I want to keep it that way.

My life needs to change direction - and this is the first step...

TTFN