Perfect one-syllable response sometimes. I have been so exhausted lately, physically and mentally. In spite of the need for money, I took off from work today. That almost never happens. I’m just too tired to think clearly tonight. My therapist, who I’ve been seeing for two years, just realised that I come to therapy to deal with grief and trauma, not to deal with bipolar symptoms. Frighteningly quick, she is. Another stunning realisation she had is that I’m afraid to talk to her about memories. If it took us two years to get this far, I’m wondering how actually getting to the memories will be. There is, of course, an interesting bit about talking to this therapist– one of the administrators actually belongs to the cult my family belonged to. They’ve been honest, though; they did tell me straightaway that my file would be read.
So, therapy work will proceed. I’m starting with grief issues. Chances are, my sister’s and mother’s suicides were related to abuse they suffered, but there is no overt SRA involvement in those deaths. My father’s and brother’s deaths are written off as ‘accidents.’ I really do need to face grief issues, and since the therapist and I can discuss them with little to no mention of SRA, it’s a good place for us to start. We’ve done some grief work before, but we didn’t get in to it deeply. The excavation will start a week from Wednesday. I can monitor the therapist’s responses as well as the cult activity to see just how deeply we should go. Should get interesting, to say the least.
But back to ‘meh.’ An actual realisation I came to is that, even though life can’t stop, it is pausing in spite of my better efforts. I decided not to finish my school programme. Rather, I’m just working more hours at my job and dealing with therapy issues. That was the best decision for me at this time. It takes so much energy for me to keep it together on any given day that I really haven’t got the resources for school. Maybe in the future. Maybe not.