Talking to my therapist is like…well, THERAPY.

I’m going to start recapping my discussions with my therapist (also known as NJ) here so I can refer back when I’m having trouble with my focus.

This week started with immediate issues first…by immediate I mean issues that were presented within 20 minutes of our session. One of my sweet, misunderstood (by me) coworkers has this ability to push me over the edge over and over again. She’s a very sweet woman with no boundaries and a sense of urgency that could run over a train. I’m not kidding. She’s been in Sales her entire working career and raised 2 beautiful daughters who no longer live at home and now has a position behind a desk (though you will never find her there) on a computer, something with which she is intensely incompatable. Because I know how to compose a Word document with pictures and everything, she thinks I’m a computer genius and relies on me a LOT. While this is very flattering, it is equally, and moreso, frustrating. Pile that on top of the boundary issues and suffice to say, we butt heads. I can’t jump every time she needs me and she’s not able to look past her need to see what she’s doing to me (I’m not the only one, either, but what everyone else does is their business). After discussing her boundary issues with NJ and the fact that she probably realizes how annoying she can be to others, I do believe she means well so my goal will be to focus on that fact more in the future. In addition to finding my compassion, I’ll also have to do better at setting my own limitations in her eyes and I’ll carefully walk her through whatever she’s trying to do every time she interrupts me in the hopes that some day she will consider if I really need to be interrupted or not.

Second issue: Olivia’s autopsy results. Believe it or not, I surprised myself by losing my composure and choking over my words until the tears took over and I couldn’t speak. I took the news very well, initially, all matter of fact and quite cool about the whole thing. For probably obvious reasons, I find this a bit unsettling. Again, NJ aptly noted that I’m very good at shutting the door to my emotions while I’m at work in order to speak without breaking down. I do this very well.

What I do not do well is open the door back up when I’m safe at home so my sadness has no choice but to come creeping out the side window into another, sometimes completely unrelated scenario so I wind up looking like a crazy person sobbing about a silly misunderstandings my husband is forced to apologize for. Oh my.

3. This is a funny one. My job is supposed to require travel, sometimes lots of it. I had to go out of town for 3 months (home on the weekends) almost immediately after I went back to work from maternity leave with Lily. My husband was forced (yet, again) to stay home with her, eating whatever he could get his hands on while I ate out at fancy restaurants across the country. That’s how he saw it anyway, as would many men in his shoes, I think. It wasn’t that simple for me. Regardless, travel has since been quite the hot button issue in our house. While it’s a requirement of my job, it’s a HUGE strain on our marriage. As a result of that first terrible experience, I’ve been pretty successful at making a case for me staying in the office while the rest of my team goes on the road. Sometimes it’s not so easy.

To my point. There’s a big trip coming up where most of my team is going to be on the road for about 3 months, again only home on the weekends. I heard my boss was concerned about asking me to travel, considering the circumstances, so I had a preemptive conversation with David and we decided together that it was not the same as it was in the beginning and he wouldn’t have a problem if I had to go. I was relieved and looked forward to passing the good news on to my boss. I’m there if you need me, boss. You can count on me. Thanks for your concern but I think I’m okay. Do you know what my boss said in return? Essentially: Thanks but no thanks. Oh, the irony. Turns out my skillset is quite the opposite of what’s needed for this particular education, seeing as I’m a creative writing major and we’re supposed to be teaching advanced financial selling concepts. If my boss knew how many insufficient funds fees I’ve gotten in my life, she would’ve laughed me out of her office. But again, maybe she has her suspicions, hense the gentle decline of my offer to help.

Also, what a relief.

4. Finally, we talked about the homefront. We’re doing very well. My husband deserves a medal for the support he’s given me and the patience. Not to mention that he’s just as interested as I am in improving everything that was wrong with us before so life only gets better as a result of Olivia passing through our lives. It’s really the only way. Because, if there’s one constant in this whole mess, it’s that life will go on whether you like it or not. And the path of least resistence has always made sense to me. I’d rather be happy than miserable and I do believe that’s a choice.

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