During my last session with the therapist, I was in a really weird emotional space. It’s strange because I think that as I’m letting go of Zooey, I feel very stuck about what else to talk about. The majority of my session time over the last three months has been spent dissecting and processing what happened with her. Now that it’s coming to a point where I don’t feel the same sense of devastation and urgency, I’m just completely unsure of how or where to move next. It’s not that I don’t have things to talk about. I always have at least 874 things I could bring up in session. It’s more that I’m afraid of talking about anything else.
Part of this, I think, directly relates to Zooey (of course). I’m hesitant to move onto any new issues because I’m terrified of overwhelming yet another therapist and ending up back at square one. Each time I start to inch my way onto a new topic, I do a LOT of talking “around” the issue. Which is super frustrating because that’s very unlike me. Usually I’m incredibly straightforward, even about very difficult stuff. One of my life motto’s is “say what you mean” because I believe we do a great disservice to ourselves and to others when we make them try to guess what we’re really saying. I don’t necessarily think people do this on purpose, but I don’t think we make much effort to NOT do it, either. You know?
Anyway. So I was having a hard time talking. I brought up this story about my biological mother (and I say “story” because at this point in my life, I’m not sure I believe anything my bio family ever told me):