I’m sorry to everyone who actually reads my newsletters for having failed to get one out last week. I was in the process of leaving my job and moving back home to Portugal for the next couple of months with my family.
I feel really positive about this change, but I'm still thinking about what's going to be my next move. I know that having the chance to think about what I actually want to do is a luxury, but at the same time I feel like everyone expects different things from me, and I have a hard time dealing with that. Sometimes, when I feel too overwhelmed with adult stuff, I feel like running away and hiding so that I don't have to explain myself to anyone. That's one of the reasons why I talk to a therapist, which I have done on and off most of my life.
The first time I went to see a psychologist I was 7. I was a very emotional child, cried a lot for reasons no one could understand. Once we were listening we are the world by Michael Jackson in the car, it was night time and the Christmas lights were up, and I was sobbing, imagining my heart had been broken. It was very weird. I wonder if I had a very traumatic past life.
I’ve tried all sorts of alternative treatments: Reflexology, reiki, acupuncture, electromagnetic, sound, touch, the list goes on. Diogo my bf says they’re all witch doctors. Once I went to get a shiatsu massage because of my anxiety. The woman looked at my tongue and told me to eat warm foods for breakfast. The next day I had a bowl of broccoli soup at 7.30am. Diogo thought I was possessed. He might have been right.
But even after all this experience, I still have a hard time letting go. When speaking to a therapist I rationalise all of my thoughts. I worry if my problems are interesting to analyse. I write notes before sessions to make sure my material is deep enough to discuss.
I'm still not sure how to tell a good therapist from a bad therapist? TBH, there are times when I feel so drastically overwhelmed that I'd appreciate it if someone just told me exactly what to do, what decisions to make — "QUIT YOUR JOB NOW! NEVER TALK TO THAT FRIEND AGAIN! GET A CAT! WRITE A NOVEL!". Maybe that way I wouldn't be constantly questioning if I'm doing the right thing.
This reminds me of that monologue from the best show ever created, Fleabag, when Phoebe Waller-Bridge is in the confession booth talking to the hot priest:
“I want someone to tell me what to wear in the morning. I want someone to tell me what to wear EVERY morning. I want someone to tell me what to eat. What to like, what to hate, what to rage about, what to listen to, what band to like, what to buy tickets for, what to joke about, what not to joke about. I want someone to tell me what to believe in, who to vote for, who to love and how to tell them.
I just think I want someone to tell me how to live my life, Father, because so far I think I’ve been getting it wrong — and I know that’s why people want people like you in their lives, because you just tell them how to do it. You just tell them what to do and what they’ll get out at the end of it, and even though I don’t believe your bullshit, and I know that scientifically nothing I do makes any difference in the end anyway, I’m still scared. Why am I still scared? So just tell me what to do. Just fucking tell me what to do, Father.”
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