Therapy

Usually, life hands us a series of battles whether its life or death, trials, and grief, or love and war. ( Yes I listen to Tamar Braxton-- Singing weeeee staay on the front line.... lol) This past week was mentally and emotionally draining for me. This was the point I needed to see my therapist again. Lately, well since the first of the year until about March I was politely told by my therapist to fly like a bird being pushed from the nest. OMG. I was scared. I mean I knew it was coming but jeez -- It hit me like" man I have to do this on my own now. I don't trust myself and my thoughts. The decisions that I make will solely be on me. Well, its have always been on me in reality, but having another person's perspective or approval is what I have always wanted.
So back to modern times, this past week was crazy, from dealing with my Grandmother's dementia after living in denial, unemployment and then coming back to some though conversations. I felt my depression getting worst and worst. I called her up thankful, she worked with me and my budget and was able to see her which is rare cause she is always booked. I felt so fatigued and down. I have not been sleeping and all I do is laying in the bed living in my fantasy world of being a superstar with no problems. After my session, I felt better but still unsure about everything.  The next morning I felt refreshed hoping that I stop creating the patterns that recur every year in the same way. I want more from myself but getting the motivation is hard to continue or even start. Im grateful for the interviews that I had this past week. But I feel like something is missing and I can't for the life of me figure it out.

Is it me that change doesn't happen cause I am afraid to start or even be in the mist true and pure happiness.
Church on Sunday was great. It took a different route that I was not expecting titled," Greatness in Darkness," it spoke life to me. Because it made seemed ok not to know. I am not supposed to know everything.

 

Family

For the past couple of days, I've been spending time in the Midwest. Since I've moved back to Texas, I have grown accustomed to everything fast pace and modern. My family is from a small town. There is no grocery stores. Barley Wi-fi. 1 car lot. 1 post office. 3 museums. 1 stoplight. No gas stations. 2 schools, 2 liquor stores. 2 local Resturants.  2 Dollar generals.  And a church on every corner.  Like any small town in the USA, everyone knows everyone's business and who died that day. The desperation for change is there but who is the one to step up the plate to create it.

We arrived on Thursday night. My grandparents are in their mid-seventies. Paw-  Paw what I call my grandfather is and has always been my BFF. Its because my father his son was only in and out of my life when it was ok for him. My grandfather has been consistence. My Grandmother, smart- quick wit, looks like half of the person that she was. Her mind used to be sharp and on point. Now she is forgetful, asking questions over and over again. It's like she is there but not. Dementia has slowly taken her. I'm not used to witnessing this. My grandmother was a town talker. She knew everything and everybody. My reality of her and my fantasy of her is contaminated. She moved slow and pacing around the house back and forth.

My heart is weak from the thought of her going through this. I  must say that she had 2 strokes within the past 2- 3 years plus she has lost relatives close to her.

On thoughts on moving back-- NO. It was good for what it was. No energy felt from me to home. I miss them but its nothing like being on my own.