Today was my second session with my new therapist, and I kind of feel like a failure. I am not sure what I expected therapy for my Biopolar Disorder to be like, and how to proceed with it all. She asked about my goals and what I'd like to work on to help with coping mechanisms and what not.
Needless to say, a lot of my answers were "I don't know" and "I'm not sure". I know I want to move forward, and I know I don't want to feel like I have felt for the last few years. Am I expected to just pick out parts of my life that just suck? And what the hell am I supposed to do about it? I know my living situation sucks; I know that my financial situation sucks; I know that my social abilities suck.
Okay, I've identified what sucks, so tell me how my own poor self-image and inability to "cope with stress" is supposed to make these things magically better if I know coping mechanisms? Seriously?
The formula is simple. Make enough money, and then we can move out, and then I can have my own space. The bill collectors won't be calling cause I've made enough to pay them. I won't be living with my in-laws cause I'll have the money to pay rent. I'll pick up hobbies, because I can afford that $2 special needle I need for the sewing project. Then I'll have the money to go out with friends. So simple, it all comes down to money.
Truly, that's what most of my issues come down to. Being poor sucks. You know what? It's a really shitty situation, and we live in a really shitty class system. I wasn't born poor. My family may not have been rich, but we had everything we needed. Not every family can get all 8 of their kids their own vehicles when they turn 16, but mine did, albeit, they were used cars, but does a 16 year old need a new car? I was set up pretty nicely when I graduated high school. I had a full ride scholarship, because I am just that damn smart. I was working during school, paying my own way, and was doing generally really well for an 18 year old out in the world. And then I jumped from the family ship. Met a guy, moved in, and thought I was all grown up.
Somewhere along the line, I developed this complex about asking for help. My parents have and will always be there for me, and my dad has been amazing, helping every time I needed help, and he continues to be my rock. But, I only call when I need something, and then I spend a good hour psyching myself up for the phone call, and then halfway through or when I get off the phone, I break down crying because I HATE having to use my father like that. I am a grown up for god's sake. I feel that at my age, I shouldn't have to be calling my parents for money for food. And that makes it worse. If for say, it was for help co-signing a loan to buy a car or one of my student loans, I wouldn't be as torn up about it. That's what my grandparents did for my parents to help them get started, and that would be an okay reason for asking. But having to call to ask to borrow money because I'm hungry and we only have flour and maybe some jelly in the fridge is a completely different matter. It sucks and it really eats at you after 10 years. Because truly, after 10 years you'd think I would get it together. That I'd be moving forward. That I wouldn't need them anymore. It's one thing to get through a rough patch or when you're just getting started, but every week for 10 years. Truly, it sucks. It drags you down and I'm in this hole and finding the way out is just so hard.
I have a damn good work ethic. I love working. I have worked my ass off since I was 15, rarely being unemployed for more than a few months. I had my own restaurant for Pete's sake, at 24. I think that was a damn good achievement. And I ran it well. I made my company some nice money, and in turn had a nice salary with benefits. Even then, the working, the money just wasn't enough to pull us out of this hole. Part of this isn't all my fault, and I'm not blaming it all on my husband either. I am just stating facts. It takes two to make it in this world. Two hard working, dedicated people with a joint goal in life, and the desire to get there. I've been married for eight years, and I have always been the one supporting us. My husband didn't work, and now he only works part time. I'm grateful that he is working his crummy job for now until I can find my own steady work. I don't regret putting him through college. I don't regret those years that I worked 70 hours a week and barely saw him so he could get his degree. Having an education is important, and he is just made for academia. I'm glad he has found his calling and hopefully one day he'll be a professor. It's a long hard road, and he's done well at it. But, at the same time, I am resentful that he was able to focus solely on his school work without having to also hold down a job.
Now, It's my turn, and I feel I am not getting the same treatment. I'm not saying I want to not work, but I would like that option. I would like to have a partner in this that is willing to be give me the same support I gave him. The fact that he is willing doesn't mean as much as if he was doing it. I know it seems petty, but hey it's my feelings. But this isn't just about that.
This is about me identifying parts of myself I want to work on with my therapist. So maybe, I want to learn how to say no. No to things I don't want to do. No to things that do not fit into what I want my life to be. No to bad influences. No to bad decisions. No to that sale on something I don't need. Maybe, I want to learn how to deal with interpersonal conflict. I want to be able to disagree and still keep my dignity and my friends. I want to be able to tell someone they are wrong and not feel like a jackass about it. Maybe, I want to learn how to make lasting friendships. I want to learn how to make friends. I want to be able to make friends and keep them securely in the friendzone. Maybe, I want to learn how to express my interest and enjoyment of something, instead of hiding it away like the precious. I want to not be embarrassed about what I like, and I want to to learn how to share these likes with others.