This week I went back to therapy for the first time in almost a year. I've definitely missed it, and the main issue has been money. Full-time freelancing means no cushion, and often means I'm lucky to have rent money. My therapist was never covered under my insurance, so that's not really a huge issue. Anyway, I managed to catch her up on a whole lot of changes and yet even though a lot had happened, big and small, from trips to tattoos to work and my relationship, it felt like picking up right where I started. I also started journaling again, a practice I'd put off with the fake excuse of "not having time." Especially as stupid drama tries to encroach its way into my life, sometimes succeeding, I'm glad I have those outlets. I am sure someday I will write about some of it, but probably in fiction, in disguise, where I can say the things I need to in the most honest way I know how, with some distance. It's very odd to be so sure you mean one thing to someone, and then the next day not be sure at all. My own reactions surprise me, and give me hope that maybe I'm a teensy tiny bit more mature than I was. Or not. I don't really know, I just know that whatever was going on last year wasn't working.
But that's a story for another time. I wanted to talk (write) about, well, talking. I spend so much of my time alone, trying to puzzle over words, to make them come out the way I want them to, to try to sound as knowledgeable on the page as I want to in my head, that sometimes I forget that I don't have all the answers, that asking for help, or just admitting the things I fear, is okay. My boyfriend and I had a big talk today and it's not like we mapped out the rest of our lives in an hour, exactly, but I found out some things I was, frankly, afraid to ask about, because if you don't ask, you can fill in the other person's answer with whatever you want it to be.
That's one of the things I like best about our relationship is that we can talk about anything. I don't feel like there's anything I can't say, so even though my default is still figuring things out in writing, I am working on using my words out loud. It's pretty much the perfect counterpoint to the other situation, where talking was not really on the table and that led to a lot of times when I just kindof filled in the blanks of what I thought was going on. I'm doing my very best to move on from that behavior.
I do have plenty of times when I don't want to talk, to anyone; I need time on my own to sort things out. It's part of why I love the solitude of travel; you're on a plane for a few hours, you're in a hotel, you're exploring with GPS and walking and wandering and soaking up new surroundings and you're not obligated to talk unless you want to. That's it's own form of therapy too. I'm have trips planned for each of the new few months, some by car, some by plane, national and international, business and pleasure and a mix of both. I'm excited about those possibilities, and the more I've started to talk about them, the more they've started to sound like they are actually doable. It's a fine line, though, because I have a lot to get in order before I hope on a plane (or rather, multiple planes) to Dubai.