Poetry therapy
A page in the diary "Good mourning!"
Written by Luise 22. Oct 2007 04:04 AM
Hi diary and everybody out there,
last weekend, after a pretty tough week, depwise, I joined a workshop in creative writing/poetry therapy, and it did me heaps of good.
I realized that my depression is not the unpredictble, unfair sickness I have been thinking sometimes - it is just a reaction to my unlucky life circumstances. I have seen four different psychotherapists during the last two years, and none of them could make me feel better. I have tried an antidepressant, I have tried homeopathy. But: I have never changed my life circumstances, although most of psychs and most of my friends told me I should. The poetry weekend helped me to rediscover the direction of my life. I have been talking about applying for a job for two years now, and I made some half-hearted attempts, but I was so unconfident, I didn't really know if my job is right for me or if I have to do something completely different or if I have to leave the situation as it is and just change my thoughts about it. And there were so many things to distract me - like beautiful little canadians, and the hope a new psych or the pills or practising CBT would "heal" me and I would not have to change anything. Well, I was wrong.
The poetry weekend led me back to my dream of working in an advertising agency. This was my imagination when I learned the job - and I really liked this job before I started working as a freelancer. All the psychs DID help me. They encouraged me to apply for a job, and they told me to forget canada. I ignored the first advice and it was too early for the second one - no surprise that I'm still feeling not perfectly good. I have to change my life. This is my way of beating the depression, and this is how I beat it last time, ten years ago. To realize this finally is the therapy success I have been ignoring for the last months.
I called my new psych who was so unfriendly and gruff during our first session and told him I'll not come back - I have decided for the "job alternative". He said he was angry, and I said: Well, you're allowed to be angry, but I'll not come back anyway.
I asked what to do with the meds and he said, do what you want. Stop them and if you feel bad you'll know you needed them. THANK YOU. I'm trying to taper them slowly. I will be happy without them - they didn't do anything except giving me a very healthy and regular digestion!
I'm gonna do it on my own. It strengthened my self-esteem to know which way to go and to know that I can do it on my own - and to know my tasks: Dealing with the canada stuff and cry about it as much as I need - and finding a job - in a place or country I really like.
That's it. This is my life at the moment.
I am happy that I have rediscovered writing as a powerful source of strength.
The canada mourning work is hard stuff at the moment - once I've started crying it is hard to stop - and there are still so many different aspects which confuse me. How can I miss somebody who could be so unfriendly and cold and who even lied to me?
He has an internet profile where he tells the interested female reader what he likes and what he dislikes, and all the things he likes are things I would have loved to do with him, like cooking, outdoors stuff, walking... but when I was in canada we did none of all these "quality time" things - we just tried to survive. And I feel betrayed cause the other girl now is allowed to enjoy the funny stuff. Well, not sure if she hasn't already had her experience with him smoking lots of pot and playing his outerspace game on the PC in his living room with closed curtains and open pants.
I don't want to sound bitter. I have met the parts of him I was meant to meet. It was his problem, not mine. The other girl is supposingly not in a better situation than I was - unless she is actually the perfect girl he imagined - who hasn't any wishes herself - or one who prefers the unattached and easy kind of relationships like he does.
I'm just tired of my own suppositions, and it would be an immense help to hear the truth from him. To hear that he isn't angry, that he did love me, to hear that there is peace from his side - that would be nice. But there is another part of me who says: It is YOUR part to be angry. You should be the one who never talks to him again as he wasn't nice to you at all! If only there wasn't the nice part of him who walked by my side for so long...aaaaahrggggggh!!!
He had different faces, different parts, and the part I really miss is the 100% good part, the part I trusted like I never trusted anyone. The part who talked to my inner child.
Anyway, at least there are good news in the job area:
I have applied for a really great job in *Spain* and I have received an email telling me that I'm one of four left candidates (out of many applicants) who are invited to do a test job to prove their talent! Now I have to create a booklet about yummy spanish cherries until the end of the month. Cross your fingers.
I want this job.
Love,
Luise.