'Tis Thursday evening which means tomorrow is Therapy Day. Golly Pete, I've had a whole lot happening inside my head and spirit this week that I almost can't wait to go and share with the good doc.
After discovering a connection to my anger issues as a child, I've gone through so, so many events through my life that are now beginning to make sense. It makes sense why my mother labels me as "The King of Passive Aggressiveness," so that I can avoid the confrontations or anger demonstrations that I feel. I don't know how this will affect anything at this point, but I'm looking forward to exploring it more tomorrow.
I got my keyboard out of my car trunk today where it's been since mid-April when I traveled to Tybee Church to sing and speak and my world began to spiral down into the very blackness of hell on earth. I could not bear the thought to seeing it with the chord charts still taped on from the last performance and church service with Doug before he decided he no longer wanted to be friends and shut me out. So, it has been sitting out there and I avoided it at all costs. But, I'm leading music at Covington FUMC this Sunday and need to practice on it in my bedroom (as opposed to the "real" piano in the family room), so I can get a true sound for the songs we're doing.
I cannot begin to tell you the anxiety I felt as I headed to the car, opened the trunk and saw it sitting back there. But, I prayed (it may sound silly, but I really had to pray hard to be able to even touch it), and brought it inside and set it up in the corner of my bedroom sitting area. Then, I sat on the cedar chest and just stared at it as if it were some living being, but it did have some type of control over me and some very sad memories. And, for the first time in several weeks, the tears came, but they were more cleansing this time. I realized how much I miss my friend and doing music together, but, perhaps that's in the past. I do know that it's up to God. But, I do know that I must still pray for him and for me and for a reconciliation that only God can bring about.
But, after a bit, I began to take the old music off and fixed my notebook for Sunday night and began to play. I couldn't do it for long (and this is probably what people have the hardest thing understanding), but I have learned with this PTSD and other emotional illnesses I'm dealing with.....it HAS to be this way. Little steps for little feet. Don't force anything that I can't handle. But, this is a piano. My love since I was eight years old. A piano. The musical instrument where my spirit and feelings could soar....through church music, the the Atlanta Ballet where I accompanied for a number of years, through the Tybee Bar, through just the joy of sitting down and playing. And, yet, I still struggle. It scares me. And, let's not even start on my guitar which is still hidden from sight, but, I may try to bring out tomorrow sometimes. We'll see.
I'm so tired of this crap. I'm so tired of wanting to be who and what I want to be, but cannot be. I'm so tired of needing to take so much medication just to function. I'm so tired of feeling like a failure at life and insignificant to others. In my heart, I know none of these are true, but my head is not comprehending it yet. But, with each day, I am feeling a bit better. Again, little steps for little feet.
Without the assurance and belief that my God is walking this path with me (and my slightly-more-demented-than-me guardian angel), I don't know what I would do. God is where my Hope is, my Peace, my Comfort in the dark of the night when I can't sleep and pace and can't turn my mind off and my anxieties are running rampant.
But, that's just me tonight. I've shared before that therapy days get intense, but so very, very cleansing and healing. I'm just impatient. Tonight I thank God for the good and compassionate doctors who are working with me AND especially for the good and faithful friends who support and encourage me during this struggle. And, I am getting stronger.