Misery at midnight

I’ve been depressed all day. I’ve already taken two naps. This was after I cried myself to sleep last night and felt miserable. I consulted the Tarot cards to consider pros and cons of ditching my therapist, and the cards confirmed a lot of what I knew. I’ve decided on a course of action: no more therapy, and I’m going to order a huge pile of self-help books. At some point when I’m feeling better (but soon–really soon), I’ll have to find a way to dump my therapist. I’m not looking forward to it. Is this what it’s like to end a romantic/dating relationship? I don’t want to know.

So far I’ve filled my Amazon cart with this book about EMDR by Francine Shapiro. It has stellar reviews. It’s called Getting Past Your Past: Take Control of Your Life with Self-Help Techniques from EMDR Therapy. That’s quite a wordy title.

I also chose a book about complex PTSD. It’s called Complex PTSD: From Surviving to Thriving: A Guide and Map for Recovering from Childhood Trauma by Pete Walker. These titles aren’t very pithy, are they?

I may or may not get a workbook. It’s called The Complex PTSD Workbook: A Mind-Body Approach to Regaining Emotional Control and Becoming Whole by Arielle Schwartz.

I haven’t purchased them yet. I think I’ll sleep on it. If anyone wants to add or subtract any books, please feel free.

I feel so sad. I’ve taken some online tests, and it seems that my therapist might be right that I’m emotionally immature.

Here’s a song by Tears for Fears called “Advice for the Young at Heart”.

Advice for the young at heart
Soon we will be older
When we gonna make it work?

Too many people living in a secret world
While they play mothers and fathers
We play little boys and girls
When we gonna make it work?

I could be happy
I could be quite naive
It’s only me and my shadows
Happy in our make believe
Soon…

And with the hounds at bay
I’ll call your bluff
‘Cause it would be okay
To walk on tiptoes everyday

And when I think of you and all the love that’s due
I’ll make a promise, I’ll make a stand
‘Cause to these big brown eyes, this comes as no surprise
We’ve got the whole wide world in our hands

Advice for the young at heart
Soon we will be older
When we gonna make it work?

Love is a promise
Love is a souvenir
Once given
Never forgotten, never let it disappear

This could be our last chance
When we gonna make it work?
Working hour is over

And how it makes me weep
‘Cause someone sent my soul to sleep

And when I think of you and all the love that’s due
I’ll make a promise, I’ll make a stand
‘Cause to these big brown eyes, this comes as no surprise
We’ve got the whole wide world in our hands

Advice for the young at heart
Soon we will be older
When we gonna make it work?

Working hour is over
We can do anything that we want
Anything that we feel like doing…

The song ends on such a melancholy note. There’s so much sadness in the way he sings the last two lines.

There are no options here. I have to fire my therapist. I’ve worked so hard on my own to master self-value, and she’s threatening that by calling me creepy and minimizing qualities within me that I see as virtues. Several days ago, a friend of mine called me wholesome. I replied, “Oh, thank you so much! That’s the greatest compliment I’ve gotten all day.” I don’t know whether or not he meant it as a compliment, but I took it as one, because to me, being wholesome is wonderful. It involves having a childlike sense of wonder and being able to marvel at natural beauty. Now that virtue of mine is being threatened. I can’t think about it without feeling the strong urge to start sobbing again. And it’s been wet, loose tears that completely drench my face, as opposed to ugly crying.