I’m Turning 50!

Funny thing.  I think my computer believes it’s older than I am.  It keeps closing down after I have written a long dissertation about my turning 50.  Suppose it gets tired and falls asleep and shuts off.  So to show respect I decided I would just add pics of my turning 50, proud of it, proud to be recovered from my eating disorder, doing what I WANT not what I am TOLD to do.  I think I’m really going to enjoy this next decade!!  As long as health stays with me. 🙂

The Flower

The next step that made a great impact on my life.  The flower.

My trip went well, held onto the advice Myraya Joy (the name I’m using for my counsellor) gave me and it was a very memorable trip.

Upon my return this was what my “homework” was.  It changed my life.  I know this sounds incredibly impossible, but this flower she asked me to draw along with the conversation about my present relationship changed my world.  The exercise was to draw a flower and write as many things you could about what you liked about yourself in the petals of the flower.  In the leaves you are only allowed two.  In those two are what you want to improve and work on in your life.  The roots are who or what grounds you in your life.  To those who have been following me, you will know that my computer is definitely one of them, but so important are the others listed.  I loved doing this “exercise”.  You should try it!

This flower is also symbolic.  It was the flower my sister Janet taught me how to draw when I was 8 years old.  She is so beautiful and wonderful and I don’t know what I would do without her.

Myraya Joy told me that I actually had 11 petals squished into 7.  Typical of me.

So in ending who can see why she said that?

The Beginning

There was a time I felt that counselling could do me no right.  Although Suzanne Tarbutt was my first one for my eating disorder, and was a beautiful lady, there still was always something missing.  Could it be that it was because the counselling was ABOUT my disorder…. not about me.  Now there is a thought.  Strange to think that this came to me some 27 years later.  My present counsellor has been teaching me a lot.  And strange to say, she earned my trust because she started with me.  What was wrong?  Why was I suffering of severe anxiety?  What brought me to that place?

First meeting… about me.  I was confused about this concept.  Not about anything else but me.  Strangest thing to think about when most of your life you thought about them.  Not me.  Them.  The ones you wanted to prove you wouldn’t let down, be someone that they would be proud of, that you wouldn’t hurt, that would prove through all the volunteering that you cared, to try to prove, prove, prove to others instead of proving to myself. 

I lost me.  I lost the love for me.  This was the first thing that amazed me.  This beautiful person in front of me, that knew no one in my life or anything about what had happened to me just wanted to listen.  What a gift.  Her kind green eyes watched as I sat there not knowing why I was there, or what I was looking for being there.  Guess somewhere deep inside of me it was me I was looking for.  But I didn’t know that then.

She started with a family tree.  The relationship between all of us.  My parents and four sisters together.  That alone took three sessions.  I won’t go into it, but it was before a very important trip my parents had planned for maybe us being together as just the six of us for the last time.  She understood that my need to deal with the different dynamics were important.  If you read my history you will understand.  Anyway, that was the beginning.

Hello Friends, I’m Back!

Not sure where to begin, if there is one beginning.  Suppose after months of trying to transition myself from depression to what?  What term is there we use when we transition ourselves from one emotional state to the other?  Normal?  Normal abnormality?

I have to say the last couple of months have been quite interesting in so many ways it will bring me back here posting often.  Let’s see.  Where do I begin this journey of reposting?  Start.  Meeting with the counsellor.  I don’t remember much, but I’ll try.  But these days I AM remembering.

Although I have done counselling in the past for my bulimia, never just because.  Just for me.  Which ultimately, to me is a better place to start.