Today I am tired and I am feeling quite low. I hope when you read that words that you don’t think “Oh dear, another whinging blog post from some middle aged tit who needs to check his privilege.” It’s possible I do need to check my privilege and maybe I am whinging but I don’t make these thoughts public in order to garner sympathy or stimulate internet annoyance, it is a cathartic process, an extension of the much more personal accounts of my inner workings I keep in my private diary.
Yes, I write more personal things than I do here. I’ve been told in the past that I’m very revealing, that I’m open in my blog. Perhaps I am but everybody has a different line in the sand when it comes to that which they wish to remain private and that they are content to make public. I’m a writer, we tend to plough our own lives for material. We also tend to embellish, alter details to suit the cause of a good story and sometimes tell downright lies for dramatic effect. Blogging is somewhere in between the private diary and the fictionalised work I do when my brain decides to be focused enough.
Of course, you don’t really care about any of these details, do you, random internet strange reading (or ignoring) the frenetic dribbling of another random internet stranger? Perhaps one reason I am fairly open in my blog is that I know those who are likely to consider me a whinger will sod off to a different, non-whinging part of the web, one which conforms to their own style of echo-chamber thinking. Wave bye bye to the nice people, Steve. You’re not writing for them. They wear weird shoes anyway.
So, today I am tired and I am feeling quite low. I have a second therapy session in an hour which will be a good place to explore some of these feelings if relevant but which is also partly behind the low feelings. I’ve spent the weekend mulling over some of the things that I’d like to address in these sessions which in turn has meant recognising the complexity and depth of some of the issues I am not always capable of coping with. At present it all seems to weigh me down, pull me backwards and preclude the possibility of satisfactory change. I have, however, felt such negative emotions prior to previous therapy and have generally been proven wrong, have usually found there are some changes and benefits springing up from the therapeutic work.
It is work, though. It’s not a walk in the park, it’s more a disorienting stumble through dark and confusing forest paths. Which is why it’s good to do this sort of thing with a guide. If nothing else it is someone to talk to in the dark, someone who might have a flashlight and who may know some of the pathways a little better than me.