We had a day out yesterday so today should be clear to relax and enjoy each other's company. My anxiety just crept along the back of my neck assuring me that now that I've said it out loud terribly things will come to pass.
TWO THINGS I AM GRATEFUL FOR (SPECIFIC)
1. If there was ever a day to be grateful for my wife it'd probably be on our anniversary (even if this morning has already been erratic with the cat being manic and my desktop struggling and I'm already behind schedule for my therapy appointment) but ... she sticks by me.
2. I had an exhausting conversation with my biological mother last night and I am grateful that I have a sense of self (she has PBD). I am grateful that for all my flaws I have a bedrock of a personality that I'm pretty happy with, that I can look myself in the mirror.
ONE THING THAT WENT WELL DURING THE DAY
I mean, the thing I'm happiest about going well was that the hour drive to the next town over in the middle of a rainstorm did not get us killed. I've never driven in the rain on the freeway so I was white-knuckling it for a while. Anniversary date a success we didn't die!
ONE ABSOLUTELY CRITICAL ACTION ITEM FOR THE DAY
I mean, I really have to get to my therapy appointment in half an hour, and then I have to submit a job application I've been sitting on. The career center tells me I need to update my LinkedIn. And I need to celebrate with my wife. And I should write. This is fine. <screams>
WHATEVER IS ON MY MIND
There's a thing I want to talk to my therapist about. In trying to connect with folks from my D&D game I ended up talking about my trauma, and once I start it's hard to stop. It's like a compulsion. Like an itch. They have to know. But telling people doesn't make me feel better.
I'd just like to explore why that is. Maybe it's a leftover coping mechanism that's no longer serving a purpose. Like emotional wisdom teeth, or something. It does kind of feel like a limbo space between who I was as an abused teen and who I am as a 30-year-old. A lot has changed.
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