In June of 2014, I began seeing a therapist. She is now retired. She is a lovely person, and I miss her understanding.
As I am without insurance and unemployed, I gots ta figure dis out on me own, matey (argh!), for the time being (as you may have gleaned from prior posts).
She once asked me to make a list of what I wanted for myself. Not for my sweet little MrBearwhois8, but just for me. I still have that list in my fancy, almost empty, journal. Here is what I was able to pull out of my brain and put on the list:
I would like to eat a meal without my stomach hurting.
Fast forward to April 2016, and a sweet woman that I know (professional life coach) offered me a step towards self-guidance by suggesting that I write down everything I am good at, no matter how menial (“even if it’s wiping baby’s dirty bottoms” said she). I still have that list in my fancy, almost empty, journal. Here is what I was able to put on that list:
I am really good at letting my son know and feel how much he is loved.
It’s so strange to reflect on this, because I am a HUGE list maker. In the past, I made lists all of the time. List-making relaxes me and allows for comfortable brain space relief.
I am the person who makes lists of what to pack, what has been packed, labels all of the bags, and carries the list just in case the suitcase goes missing. It is my way and it has worked for me.
What kinds of lists do you make?
Now my brain has been ptsd kerfuffled, and I am re-learning it’s parameters and myself.
I am determined to allow myself to make lists again. Pinteresting lists, notepad lists, room-by-room spreadsheet lists.
If you don’t hear from me in two weeks,
I’ll be at the Nationale Hotel in Mexico City, Room 703!
Love, Ms. Herisme xo
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