I told my therapist today that it was a toss up whether I’d go home after my appointment, or just, run away and embark on a journey of homelessness.
He proceeded to tell me an anecdote about a homeless camp he’d walked past once – and, how there were lots of rats. Nothing else. Just that. I’m still laughing at how perfectly he responds to my nonsense.
He’d also conceded to moving the notorious plant to a sunnier spot…it is not thriving.
I stopped by the chiropractor after, and then just sat in the parking lot on the phone with Tanya for 3 hours…I was serious about not wanting to go home; I’m overwhelmed. It’s all just so much right now.
My husband complains often about being overwhelmed at work & how he’s requested an assistant so many times – but they refuse to hire help; and every time he complains, I remind him that it doesn’t matter how many times he tells them that he can’t keep up with the amount of projects he has…so long as he works overtime and gets it done…they aren’t going to hire anyone.
Yet I do the exact same thing, I say I’m overwhelmed and I can’t do it anymore…but then, I just keep going, doing it all…
well. fuck. that. something’s gotta give.
enter: coping mechanism #3, alcohol