Got lots done yesterday: running and reading and Small Group prep for the entire week.
And the shrink.
He was ok. Bilingual, which I like. Though I felt that he was sucking up to me a bit.
It's just hard.
Hard to talk about what happened.
Hard to talk about Singapore.
Hard to talk about losing my closest friend.
She was my everything.
My friend, my family, my life.
I based everything I did on her.
And then she betrayed me in the deepest way.
The shrink says that it isn't stupid.
But that it shows just how sensitive I am.
Which is funny considering that no one in their right mind would ever call me sensitive.
I don't like him saying that I'm sensitive. I don't want to be "sensitive". It's a bad, ugly word.
It's so difficult to try to explain how my mind works.
Why, in her betrayal, she proved to me that I deserved it.
That I should be punished.
She condemned me and I deemed that the adequate punishment should be death.
When the only person that you have in your life deems you unworthy, how can you not deem yourself unworthy as well?
He asked if I really thought that I would die.
"Well, that was certainly the plan."
He didn't seem to find that funny. I did. Stupid questions are funny.
He asked if the doctors thought that I would die.
I don't know. They just told me that I had given them a good scare.
Unconscious, seizures, hallucinations, failing kidneys, liver giving up, vomiting, aspiration pneumonia....
"So you decide what that means."
He just took notes.
He isn't very knowledgeable regarding medication, which bothers me a bit.
But I'll give him a fair shot.
He said that he wants to see me every week rather than every two, since he thinks that "we have a lot to talk about."
Oh, buddy, we haven't even scratched the surface.
I teared up a bit. So embarrassing. I refuse to cry in front of people, especially shrinks.
I don't want them to feel like they've won.
He offered me a kleenex, which I refused.
I hate showing weakness. I hate being exposed. I hate feeling stupid and vulnerable and out of control.
He said that he sees a lot of people cry.
I said that it was just so cliché, the girl crying in front of her shrink.
I hate that I'm a cliché.
I want to be so much more than that.
He asked whether I was still mourning the loss of my friend.
That's what it is. Mourning.
I'm so tired of mourning.
I'm so tired of being sad.
I'm so tired of being tired.
Swallow the pain.
Paint a smile on your lips.
Pretend to be happy.
Fake it til you make it.