I think my migraines crave attention. Basis? ...I tried to be nice today and cover for them (i.e. play the "oh, they haven't been so bad lately" angle at my appointment today - mainly because I really felt they hadn't) and before I'd even gotten back to my apartment, I was so sick, I was actually afraid I wouldn't make it up the stairs to my apartment. I took Excedrin posthaste and have since improved (with the help of a Coca-Cola as the Exc wore off) - but now, the caffeine has me all nervy and frenetic. Next time, I'm just going to say, "Oh, the migraines? Continue to suck. Although they sometimes go away or stay mild just long enough to lull me into a false sense of safety, they continue to sux0r, and I mean ever so. I lie in my bed dreaming about that magic pill you gave me once that took the migraine away almost as quickly as I could chew it. I drew a poster of that pill, hung it above my bed, and I kiss it each night before I fall asleep. And despite not having the slightest idea what it was, I've been buying it off the black market, which is - quite conveniently - along the shuttle route."
Stupid sickness trade-ins. I want health, damn you, health! ...I don't think it helped that there was major repair work going on in the doctor's building while I was there today. Drills and hammers and I-have-to-speak-audibly, oh my. Apparently, they were working on the hundred-year-old heating system. There's often construction of some sort going on either in- or outside of that building, and I tend to amuse myself by falsely attributing the horrific drilling noises to the dentist office across the hall... but that's only funny for so long. I suggested the doctor relocate his later appointments outside, as it was absolutely gorgeous today. Did I mention I love fall? I mean, yeay. (I still have my first ever summer's-over sadness - separating the season from the implications, i.e. vacation versus school; this is the first time I'm actually sad to see the heat and the sun scamper off... but I spent more time in them this year than I have in so many seasons. Anyway.) It was all warm-in-the-sunlight, but-a-crisp-breeze and I was oh-so loving it. I ended up arriving somewhat early because I caught a bus right away, so I sat outside for awhile and enjoyed it. I love how autumn makes me instantly appreciate the fact that I'm outside. That sort of affirmation, the instant healing of sun and air, is so helpful. It makes me want to get out more; it makes me want to stay out more... It makes me miss the prettier Wisconsin autumn all the more. Autumn is a constant memory of them, and obviously that stings as often as it feels refreshing... but I love it anyway. I just wish I weren't going to miss it completely; I wish I could go up there ...like, now... before the prime of the season's past. But I can't go up there that quickly. Especially, since I'm back to thinking I want to invite Sara here. Godds, I miss her so much. I swear it isn't fair. It doesn't seem healthy - but I know, I know it is. Eeee! She phone-tagged me tonight, and her voice was a bit world-worn, and I almost started crying just because she's so real, and I love her so much, and I want to make it all better, but can't, but know that if I could just talk to her and hold her, things would be so much better for both of us. Sara reminds me that my life as it is now, even my life as it was, is not entirely without merit. When I get to hold her, and just - shoot upward in the squee - I feel like everyone in the world is watching us, seeing how fantastic it is, thinking about the relationships they have that are like that, wishing they focused on such relation more. I don't want to diminish it by being corny, but my friends and family and foundfamily just make me feel so grateful. Special, lucky, blessed. I'm biased, but I tend to think in that regard, I have it better than everyone else. And I don't know what I did to deserve that, (and I'm starting to see that other people have this, too) but I still feel like the collection of people I've known is the best out there.
I mean you, too. Feel loved.
So, the session - anyway - was fairly laid-back. Partly because I found concentrating rather difficult with all the noise. Partly because I was a bit drunk on the weather. Partly because I went out yesterday evening, and was out this morning having spent very little time awake inside, and was therefore feeling freer. Partly because I've been feeling so sucky and there has to be a reprieve every now and then. I don't know. Superdoc said I seemed whimsical, which was a fun suggestion. We stuck to fairly safe topics; I had a few things from our last session that I wanted to revisit, and we made it through the easier ones. (Difficult, not-yet-broached subjects include my feeling that, when I told him about asking Chas if she wanted to get together, he once again made the relationship into something it's not. Or acted as if I want or expect something from it that I really don't. He asked me if I was afraid of what I might say, and he said something like, "She got married already, right?" which just threw me back to the whole, "I am not going to be the reason-these-two-should-not-be-wed, godddamnit! I love her, and that's not what I want." At the same time, I don't really believe it's bothering me this much because he's so off. I think it's probably bothering me because there's truth in it. I might be wrong about that, but just - based on the parallel response I had when we first talked about her wedding and he posed this angle - I think it's possible. So that's a potentially brutal conversation I don't much want to have.) Moving onto what we did discuss - t'was much easier. He sort of challenged me Friday to get off the bus at stops I haven't yet and just see what's around, see if there's anything going on, get a feel for different places. And that would be alright, I guess, except that of the three bus lines, I have one basically memorized, have ridden a second one only once at the very terrifying beginning of the bus-taking, and have never even boarded the third. So, I could technically get off at a different stop (probably) on the line I know well, but I feel more inclined to sort of equalize my knowledge of the other two before I do that. Plus, the other two lines go more toward civilization, in some ways. Anyway, part of my baby-step-routine says that before you do anything, you watch it. And before you get off a bus, you ride it. Before you put in a point B, you ride from point A back to point A. Maybe a few times. Since he asked me to get off, I didn't feel like I could take that step- and I really didn't want to skip it. (I might have been able to - I might *be* able to - except that I need the option.) So, anyway, he was of course way supportive. He thinks it's brilliant, it's a great idea, the exact right step, I'm doing so well, blah, blah, blah. (Go on.) So now hopefully I can do some of that during the week.
I feel less whiny about money. I remembered something that helps explain a little of the bitterness around it, something (who else?) the doctor shared with me: The financial straits my family was constantly mucking around in - like most of the crises in our lives - weren't necessary. If things had been handled differently, it's not like we would have been affluent, or even that we would have been free entirely from pinching pennies... but it wouldn't have been such a constant, collasal issue. I'm reminding myself now that one of the cool things about learning how to interact with the world (another great thing about the cooler air outside - it reminds me of Rogers-walks and my walks around the block last year, i.e. just going outside, I have this feeling of progress and a memory of the hard work I've done) is that I will eventually have a great deal of power in my own life (I had to be very careful with how I phrased that, so as not to freak myself out - the things I want scare me), and things will be different than they have been for me, different than they were for my parents. I also realized that oddly enough, part of my need for material things is a need for organization and a need to be rid of material things. My life has been significantly remodeled, and I don't feel like that's evident. I still have all of this shit hanging around from prehistoric times. And I have all sorts of things I value and associate with things/ people I value with which I want to replace them. So in an odd way, I want things because I want to simplify. I want to buy books because I want (dear godd, help me) to send some of my books onto new homes. I want to get rid of what's no longer life-giving. Less yesteryear, more Mary Brave.
So after we had clarified that I can get out in the world through the tiniest steps I can come up with, we talked a bit about what I want to do. I told him about feeling like a foreigner sometimes, how when I walk down the streets I can hear the noise of traffic and music, and I witness people talking, but my own conversations are limited to the most basic exchanges of "hi", "I'm good," "how are you" etc. I talked about the way people seem to relate to each other on these buses (basically, they don't - beyond simple human civilty) and muttered something bitter offhand regarding the number of people who can rattle off in two or three different languages, fluently, in less than ten minutes. (Today there was a woman speaking the most beautiful French I've heard since I last watched 8 Femmes, and twisting her long, stringy blonde hair into knots as she spoke. She was utterly and unjustly fascinating.) In this random manner, we ended up on the subject of languages, and he asked if that was something I would like to learn. I told him definitely, adding that I would like to simply 'know' how to fluently speak a language; I'm frustrated by having to learn it. But if I knew the language, I would want to study it. The best way I know how to explain this is to refer to English: I can carry a conversation in English fairly well, but I still find the mechanics, history, etc really interesting. I'd like to learn that about a language without having to be annoyed with my inability to speak like a native. He asked me what I'd like to learn, and while technically the answer is (pretty much) everything, I told him Spanish (it's beautiful, I already know some, and it seems the most practical living in the US) and Sign. Sign intrigued him, as I knew it would; he didn't expect it. He told me he could guess at reasons I might have for choosing that, but he wanted to hear mine. I said something about gesturing a lot while I speak and how I often wish that those gestures could convey more. That they were the language instead of a supplement to it. Language can be a very physical thing for me, and Sign's pretty much the only language that takes that into account. We started talking about an organization in the city that's reknowned for its work with deaf children, and he suggested I look into whether or not there's anything I could get involved with that might allow me to learn some Sign. The idea kind of freaked me out - I really don't want my first venture into socialization to be in a completely new situation where I know *nothing* about what I'm doing... but now that I'm 'home' again, 'home' again, jiggety-jig, and we've talked about a few other things, I feel I might as well see if that's an option I could look into later. I don't have to do it right away.
He asked what other things I can imagine doing, emphasizing that the activity is mainly the excuse to interact with people. I told him that honestly, at this point, there are very few activities I wouldn't use for an excuse. And it's true. I decided not to stun him by mentioning I'd even consider something athletic, given enough assurance that I'm allowed to suck without feeling like I do, but ended up stunning him anyway. Oddly enough, by telling him I would love to sing again. That page in my file must be stuck to another one because he was pretty shocked. He'd mentioned something about not knowing if there was an instrument I'd be interested in playing - which is why I mentioned voice/ choir - and then when he became so flabbergasted, I added, "I was in three choirs when I was in school. One of which started at 7:00 in the morning. Plus musical." (This was basically my whole life a few years ago, minus the icky spastic-brain-rupturing part. This was the only thing - other than people - that I missed when I went homebound.) He wrote down two possible avenues for me to explore - one is technically a church choir for a really community-focused, open, diverse church I've never heard of, and the other is a possible gig at a nearby community college. I joked about how many schools I was going to hack my way into without being admitted, but I do want to check it out. I also laughed at the fact that - although he was suggesting a very different sort of church for a very different reason - he is now yet another counselor who's suggested I go to church. He laughed when I put it that way. Good thing after some of what I've been through lately (and less-recently, too) ... the doctor definitely does not buy into the "Who Needs Therapy When You've Got God?" bullshit. Too many people lately do.
At the end of the session, I told him that I think I want to invite Sara to come visit, and I want to know what he thinks of that and whether or not he thinks I can say yes to this-other-thing that I really want to say yes to, but really couldn't bear to say yes and then back out of... He obviously had opinions today, and part of me did want to just say, "Oh, go ahead, just let me have it." But then, he might have let me have it. And although I expect his optimistic self will, with some planning, think both of these things are possible... I never know. It's better to wait and start there Friday, and we both know that. Even though I'm curious as hell for his opinion.
Other news: my infatuation with fall has led me to a seriously orange lj. I was going more for autumn than Halloween, but we have definitely achieved pumpkin status here.
I want to go jump in the leaves and ride zhe buses. Bounce, crunch, crunch. Squee. ...Ooh, I passed a recess or a gym class at a very tiny school today. Girls chasing each other and boys jumproping. Somehow I managed to keep moving down the sidewalk. I think I deserve an award for the number of times I've managed not to (even attempt) kidnapping. Seriously. Never have a youngest child. It warps them.
Bounce, crunch, squee!
~me