I noticed that the most important things about me are at the bottom of the blog, its like the first post should be a sticky because its why I am doing this, so read my first post first and then up in sequence or stuff I say will not make sense! Not that anyone is reading this. I hope not yet cause I'm still figuring things out. Its like its been a month now since my mom died and the shock has worn off and I am waking up. I seem to have a lot to say today, and thats probably good. Greta my therapist has been working with me to open stuff up so I can deal with it, and well now I'm open.
My dad told me once about the way therapy works and about transference and how talking about things brings them into the present and how we then assign the responsibilty for some things to others, and how therapists become the target. And the good ones use this to get you to see yourself in the interaction of it. I like Greta and I think she is doing good so far, we havent solved anything, but I feel like I am moving again and will understand why I feel the way I do. Its not like I went crazy, or really felt like I needed help or anything, but my dad probably feels that his own grief would get in the way of supporting me as much as he thinks I need. He has known Greta for years and I think he goes to her for regular sessions. She says she knows my mom, although I dont think they were friends, but I bet my dad talked about her to her alot. It helps to have someone who is outside your life a bit and can observe and listen and then give gentle feedback or suggestions. Greta is good like that, she listens and doesnt judge, and gives me little tasks to do, like last time she asked me to find a person who was a bit down and find out why, and see what happened, and I tried it on a girl at school, and she started telling me all this stuff about her and her bf and how he was being a jerk and not paying attention to her but wanting her to pay attention to him. She talked for about 5 minutes and then sort of realized that she had been going on. I just smiled, cause I knew what greta was trying to show me. The girl was smiling and thanked me for listening to her, and seemed happy. She said she was going to tell her bf to pay more attention to her, or else. Meaning probably no sex.
My mom was real good at this kind of thing, my dad said she could do magic. Ever since I was little, she could tell right away if anything was bugging me, and she would find somewhere to sit and get me talking, not about whatever it was, just talking, but pretty soon I'd be talking about whatever it was, even if I didnt know myself what was bugging me. And that would lead to talking about stuff when I was younger or stuff that happened before that, and after a while I would see how it all worked together to make things the way they were. I would see how I did something to make the current situation, and how I could change my mind about it, and it would disappear as an issue. She always fixed me like that, and then she would hug me and kiss me and usually give me a treat, like a popsicle or cookie when I was little, or later sometimes she would treat us to lunch somewhere or go shopping. It was magic, it was like she knew exactly how to get to the thing I wasnt seeing, and she did it so smooth and gentle and without ever judging me or making me feel stupid.
Dad doesnt have the gift of healing peoples spirit or mind like that, and he knows it. Its not that he doesnt listen or help, but he is too analytical, he sees the steps of the problem, but not the soul of the person as much. Funny that he is like he is and works in mental health, but his job is more research. He says he helps people because he finds basic information about how minds work, and he does spend a lot of time listening to people and analysing it and he says it helps people just to have someone listen. He works with people who have had trauma in the military or wars. He is fascinated by how just a few seconds of someones life can change the way their mind works for the rest of their life even though they may not have any physical injuries.
Mom knew most of my secrets. She didnt mind that I did things, she would just do her thing and I would always see how silly I had been or whatever, but it was like she enjoyed my experiences like they were a really good story, and fun and exciting and not bad even when they were. And now when I kind of feel broken she is not here. Guess its time for me to grow up.
Wow I wrote alot today. I feel like maybe I will be happy again and have a future. I know that is what mom would want.