Will I ever get through a counseling session without thinking how bad I need a drink? Even after all of the work I did this morning, still making myself vulnerable feels awful and wrong.
Funnily enough that’s the big topic that came to light, today, as we spoke about the successes and failures of the week. She thinks that I’m not giving myself enough credit for getting through the holidays sober; I think that I’m still not convinced that it means forever, and am unwilling to get anyone’s hopes up lest they be dashed immediately by my hubris.
Am I afraid of disappointing myself? Probably. Would celebrating a job well-done lead to celebratory drinks, since I passed that test so I’m obviously not an alcoholic after all!? Maybe.
Would celebratory drinks lead to blackout? The way I’m feeling right now? Absolutely.
She asked where this aversion to vulnerability comes from, and I told her that was too big a topic for a one-hour session. She asked if I like myself, and I told her that I really do, but that I haven’t always, and there is some residual shame from those years. She recommended I try talking back to those old voices that get in there and try to stir shit up, telling them to fuck off, to sit back down and let me handle things from here on out. She says she knows it sounds cheesy as all hell, but that it really works. I’ll give it a try.
“Hang on just a sec, will you?” I said. “The dogs opened the door in here.” No one’s home, but still: I feel too vulnerable talking about myself like this where someone, anyone, might come inside my house and hear. Totally normal.
The next homework assignment is to write my life story, and I’m really, really, not looking forward to that. I’m of the mind that I survived my child-and-early-adult-hoods, I’ve worked hard to get where I’m at, and there’s no sense in dwelling on the old bullshit. Only problem is that after a case of beer it all bubbles up to the surface, so I’m obviously not as over it as I’d like to believe.
How to make myself vulnerable enough to spill it all, not only to her, not only to all of you, but to the people in my group that I’ll have to read this aloud to? That seems pretty insurmountable right now. I’m not even sure I’m ready to read my “Why Now?” tomorrow night, and that’s all stuff they probably know already.
So that’s what’s got me agitated today. I will say, the urge has passed, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it pops back up as soon as I log off of here.