Two words: Therapy.

Bonus points to those who can guess where I stole my title from.  I have begun therapy again and have been attending for a few weeks consecutively now.  I consider writing here as a part of that process and so does my therapist, yet I have been shirking my blog as of late due to a very busy life.

I will call my new therapist Lilith.  It actually suits her a good deal as she is a very earthy, feministic woman with an organic approach to psychotherapy.  This is a good match for me.  She is high-science minded and very progressive, ideal for me in point of fact.  She is not judgemental in the least and completely understands the life patterns of those who have dealt with bipolar their whole lives, the cycles of substance/alcohol abuse, impulsivity, casual sex, gambling, euphoria, agitation and depression.  A life fraught with recovering from decisions made in the moment that are counter to our best interests.  All of this without moralizing.  She approaches it with advice and she is interactive and hands-on.  I like her.  This is positive therapy.

My relationship has suffered from growing pains and resurfaced from the conflagration tempered and hardened in the fury of it’s own fires.  She challenges me.  This is vital as I am bad at the long term relationship.  She claims that she is as well, so we are learning from one another determined to make it right whenever anything goes wrong.  I love her more all the time and it makes me so happy to have her in my life.  Though, I think I have to learn to be in a relationship and not play the role of Pan, a puckish, trickster, rogue always chiding and teasing.  I think my lighthearted poking and prodding has started to actually hurt her feelings.  She was an only child and doesn’t fully appreciate teasing it would seem.  She takes it very seriously at times and I fear that it is eroding her patience with me.

There was some flux with regards to her 3 year old son.  I am a puckish character and seem to inspire this wild streak in children and animals alike.  They both adore me and come to life around me.  Well, her son was getting very worked up and hyper in my presence, which as a non-parent was causing me undue stress.  I have no authority over the child and he seems to be fully aware of this.  I cannot simply tell him to stop, or do anything at all, he only listens to me when it is convenient or when he is calm which does happen from time to time.  At first he was hard to get to sleep, he would cry and scream for an hour.  During the night he would wander to his mother’s bed and crawl in whenever it suited him, several times per night.  Obviously this was awkward and uncomfortable for me.  We got to having arguments about this.  You really just can’t tell a woman how to deal with her baby.  Especially as a non-parent.  Eventually I suggested that she have a talk with him about his behaviour.  The child likes me a lot.  Despite not really paying attention to what I have to say he does want me around and for whatever reason likes me.  So it was explained that his actions were causing me to be uncomfortable and that I might not like to be around.  He has been much better since.

My job is a major stressor in my life.  It gets worse by the day and while I can seem to solve all of life’s other challenges, work is one that only ever degenerates.  It consistently becomes more detrimental to my psychological wellbeing.  I am intended to spend most of the time between now and Christmas away from home.  This is clearly not healthy for my mind.  No support network.  I will be doing incredibly tedious and horrible things while away as well.  I desperately need out of my line of work but at present they pay far better than the alternatives and cover my meds and therapy.  It is difficult to make any changes or take control over my working situation at present and it is breaking my mind.  Literally.

 

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