Fake real life and chaotic energy

Have you ever had Starbucks Door Dashed to your therapy session?


Neither have I….until last night.

Picture taken courtesy of Door Dash, sent to me by my husband.

Last night, before I left for therapy, I started jokingly yelling at my husband that I NEED MORE CAFFEINE OR ALCOHOL IMMEDIATELY HELP. (The chaotic, sarcastic energy had already begun.)

He told me no to alcohol, but yes to caffeine lol. So he then proceeded to send me Starbucks via Door Dash to my 2 hour therapy session.

It was great. I don’t know why, but I really felt like I just needed something.

Oh, how did therapy go?

Honestly…it’s such a weird vibe lately. I don’t even know what’s going on. I don’t recognize myself, I’m acting like the SUPER fake and false extroverted version of myself I portray when I’m in a group of people and I assume a leadership role…….

But having that facade while in therapy?

That’s a new one.

I think it’s just that life feels very fake right now.

My husband is home with me. He’s helping. We’re sharing the duties….I fucking have HELP. For the first time ever….I have help.

And it’s amazing. It is so freaking nice. And I’m going on vacation next week, where I’ll finally, truly, get away from it all.

But…it’s fake real life.

This isn’t real.

I mean, yes, it’s technically real, and not imaginary or made up……but it’s temporary.

It’s not real life because it isn’t the norm. It can’t stay like this.

And that’s…it’s just a little bit harsh. Because I do so desperately need help. And a break from it all. And I’d just…I’d love for this to be a more permanent reality. But it just can’t be. Someone needs to work.

The first hour of therapy was pure chaotic energy. Or, at least, that’s how it felt. It felt like I was just a big ball of bullshit, faking my way through it.

The second hour, once I had coffee, was actually a good bit calmer. We talked about one of the things I avoid talking about at all costs…my physical health and how that’s getting significantly worse.

We talked about the guilt I feel associated with that…and just…ugh. Yeah. That’s a hard one. It’s a really hard one.

I’m going on vacation on Saturday, in 4 days. I’m excited, but a little bit terrified. Obviously, that means I won’t have therapy next Monday….but I guess that’s okay. I’m excited to be getting away from here for a little bit. To be a person that’s more than just a mom, a caretaker…to be an actual person.

On that note, I have not even started packing, and I have a TON to do to get ready. I am leaving my husband with the kids, so I’m trying to make that as easy and seamless for him as possible.

Oh, fun side note…today is the day that my husband and I met for the first time 8 years ago. I don’t love the 4th of July, but that does make it a bit more special.

(Also, to the person shooting off fireworks at 11:30pm for a solid hour on July THIRD and waking up my baby last night….you, sir (or ma’am) are an asshole.)

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