The world moves faster than I'm able to keep up with sometimes. So many things are happening so quickly, and I'm just trying to keep caught up so that the next fire doesn't burn me faster than I can step away from it. For those of us keeping track, let's recap:
- I was selected for a new supervisory position! Pay Raise!
- To transition me from worker bee to manager bee, I was sent to an in-residence 8 week leadership course.
- Montréal trip (very) soon!
- I'm moving. I'll be working in South Korea to satisfy my new position. Eiren will not be joining me.
- Eiren may have to have surgery while I'm gone.
- The contract I have with my employer ends in a little over a year and a half.
Extra: Finished paying off all of my debt! (Okay, okay... I still have student loans...)
Yet I'm used to it now, and it's almost funny to me that I thought this year would be more peaceful because I planned a vacation (a vacation that I've already had to reschedule!) for us. So, business as usual, I guess: tragedy abounds, life still happens.
My situation is much worse than I let on, I'm afraid, and I wish I could share with you the gruesome details, but I'd end up hurting so much of what I've built for my family, so it'll have to wait until a safer time. With that in mind, if we're close friends, chances are you already know.
With all of this, I'd actually hoped that I wouldn't have time to think about my issues. I know how unhealthy that sounds, but rest assured, it's probably more so than I think... and it didn't really work, either. I've been thinking about it a lot. Every single day, every single hour, every single minute... It's been on my mind, waiting there for me menacingly, ready with hard questions and harder answers.
And the truth is, I just don't have the luxury of long-term mental health care due to the move. I'll have another four or five sessions with my psychologist, and then I'm gone for fourteen months. This doesn't have to be a bad thing, but it certainly isn't a fun thing either. My psychologist believes that I'm logical enough to do my homework and learn more about myself through introspection, and I agree, but that isn't a replacement for a professional, much less a professional diagnosis.
And so now I think, and jump to conclusions, and subsequently dismiss those conclusions because of their outrageousness.
Some good insight has been coming to me, though. Like having a more clear understanding of what the "shame" that I feel really means, about how it ties into a very suppressed lifelong desire to be someone else.
As a young boy, I can remember trying on my sister's clothing, her shoes, her underwear. I can remember doing it because I wanted, desperately, to be a girl. I can remember going to school with them on underneath my clothing because it made me feel happy. And, of course, I can remember being told that I was a little pervert, that I was doing something wrong with them, and I can remember the years of abuse I took because of doing those things.
And I can remember how that changed my perception of myself, how I started to believe those things. How I started to believe that there was something wrong with me, that maybe it wasn't what I thought, maybe that it wasn't something that I wanted, and I was just doing it because I wanted attention. And so, I fetishized my desires, and for years I've felt like that's all this ever meant. That it wasn't important, that it wasn't real, and that fantasy was the only truth it's ever been.
Honestly, it's just been hard. It's always hard for me, but these thoughts have been some of the most difficult. With everything happening right now in the present, everything that happened growing up, it just feels like it's too much, yet I'm used to it now. Life still happens.