Retail Therapy

I’m feeling a bit down today and yesterday.  Went out and performed some ‘retail therapy’ with a friend yesterday, but that only went so far.  It’s also difficult to get into retail therapy when you don’t have spare cash to spend.  Fortunately, I only spent about $30 (vitamins excluded).  The other thing about retail therapy is that the high only lasts a little while unless you’re manic.  Then it’s the reality of spending money you don’t really have on things you don’t really need.  Even when I brought home a large paycheck, it didn’t change the guilt I would feel afterwards.  Of course, I would be spending $100-$200 instead of $30 too so it’s all about perspective.  I’ve spent so much at Eddie Bauer over the past few years, DH & I nicknamed it the ‘evil store’.

We even stopped into the jewelry store.  I was working on collecting jewelry from all the major gemstones.  I have a ring, earrings, and necklace of garnets, amethyst and sapphire.  I was planning to go on with rubies and some of the others.  (I think ruby was next on the list.)  I saw this beautiful heart shaped ruby ring.  It’s too expensive (and too impractical) for my Christmas list this year but maybe next year.  Anyway, I don’t know why I stopped in the store in the first place.  Perhaps just to torture myself.

I feel like I should be saying something more profound about retail therapy, since I titled the post with the phrase.  But I guess I have to realize that not everything I write has to be profound.  Sometimes it’s important just to write something – anything. 

Here’s an aside though, that I want to throw out to all of my readers: my therapist wants me to bring in my journal so we can use it as talking points for therapy.  I am reluctant to do this.  It reminds me of how my mother used to read my journal when I was young.  I know she isn’t my mother but it still feels like someone is checking up on me to make sure I did what I was supposed to – like homework.  Do you think she has the right to look at my journal?

 

Why am I not writing?

Even just now, I wrote the title and then left the computer. Why? Why am I so subconsciously opposed to writing? We talked about this in therapy. My therapist wanted me to start a journal. I wrote the first three days, missed a day, wrote, and now it’s been two or three days since I picked it up. Why?

After exploring it in therapy, I know why. I probably didn’t need therapy to tell me this, but I did need to think about it for myself. You see, any time I tried to keep a journal, my mother would read it. I remember one time, I was in junior high at the time, I wrote out on a couple of sheets of paper how I felt about my home life. I wrote that we (my mother, father and I) were three strangers living under the same roof. My mother found it, read it, and beat me for it. It was the last time she ever used the leather belt on me.

I kept a journal for a while when I was recovering from my car accident. I had to stay with my mom because I had no where else to go during my recovery. I kept my journal buried in the nightstand next to my bed. It didn’t matter because she found it and read it. I can’t remember how I found out, but I did.

Since then, I have intermittently kept a journal. I will buy all these cool journals but then never write in them because I feel that they are too good for whatever I have to say. Or I will start a journal and not finish it. I have one, it’s a pretty pink color, that I have intermittently written in since 2008. I’ve gone through about a third of the pages. I would write for a few days, then nothing for six months. When my cat Luna died, I wrote simply Luna died today. The way I wrote it, with such emphasis on the phrase with underlines, I can recall the pain I felt then.

When my therapist assigned journal writing as my “homework”, I went out and got a new journal. I found this composition notebook at the dollar store that has a funky colored cover. I also got some butterfly stickers at the dollar store and decorated it. I could have used my old journal but I wasn’t sure where it was and I wanted to start “fresh”. It sort of worked. I write in it some days. I’ve got no excuse for the most part except that I don’t make time for it. Or I don’t find anything to say. I mean, my life is boring and all I do is worry about being unemployed or money, so what else is there to write. I wrote at first about my therapist, maybe that’s why I wrote so much for a couple of days. Now that that well has run dry (I had no appointment last week) and I’m out of stuff to bitch about. 😉

I haven’t been writing here either. I did have a busy week last week, since I substituted four days. (One full day, two half days, and a 3/4 day.) It definitely kept me busy and I was tired by the end of Friday. I’ll post more on this separately.

It’s all just an excuse, isn’t it? Writing is supposed to be therapeutic, and it is when I have something on my mind, otherwise it’s just a chore. Most of my blog posts take me an hour to write. I spent about three hours yesterday on my next Canvas post on The Compassionate Brain webinar series. I wish I hadn’t committed myself to it. My summaries are two weeks past the air date and they take so much time to write. It all feels like so much effort for me right now. I don’t think I’m really depressed, although I am doing a bit of cycling, but still it feels like so much effort. I can’t imagine if I did this for a living. It takes me so long to write anything! (And it’s not my typing speed slowing me down.)

Well there. I wrote about not writing. Does anyone else have this problem? If so, how do you get around it? Any suggestions are welcome. Thanks.


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