When therapy is helpful, even outside of the therapy room.

When you go to therapy long enough, a funny thing happens.

You start realizing things. You start understanding things about yourself a little bit more, you start recognizing that the things you do that you thought were harmless, just might not be. And you start to be able to recognize these patterns on your own…eventually…without anyone having to tell you.

Eventually.

It’s no secret that life is hard right now. Literally, the hardest it’s ever been.

Yet…my head is above water. I’ve yet to spiral, fall apart, breakdown….I’ve just been…going.

And it wasn’t until tonight. Until I was sitting here, not in a bad mood, not upset about anything…just…numb? Apathetic? I honestly don’t know. I’m having a very hard time naming my feelings. But it’s a STRONG feeling of…nothingness.

And I realized that I’m knowing making a bad choice. I’m knowing indulging, doing something, that…while it feels good in the moment, I actively know while I’m doing it, that it’s wrong. Like, spending money on something small but unnecessary, or coffee, or chocolate…when I can’t pay my bills.

It wasn’t until just now. As I made the tiniest “bad” decision that was small and insignificant but felt good in the moment…that I realized what it was.

Self sabotage.

I’m self sabotaging.

My life is, well, I won’t say it’s as bad as it can get. It can certainly get worse.

But it’s probably harder than it’s ever been.

This is not something I can fix, or make better, or improve. I can’t fix my kids health. Our genes aren’t changing any time soon.

I can’t magically get myself out of debt, nor can I change the HUNDREDS of dollars a week that I’m spending in medical bills and medical supplies ALONE.

And I can’t control, or understand, or have any say in the relationship with my birth sons parents that for some reason has shifted gears so fast I don’t even know where the fuck it came from.

I’ve written a lot about self sabotage in the past. It was a big topic of conversation in therapy for a while. And I guess it hasn’t come up recently…which is why it took me probably far too long to realize what it is that I’m doing.

I can’t make my situation better. But I can certainly make it worse.

I haven’t thought about the ways in which I self sabotage for a while. Probably over a year. But…it fits. It’s what’s happening.

I wish I could explain why.

Maybe because I want to feel better.

Maybe because ✨logic✨and, if I can’t pay my bills anyway…I can at least afford a cup of coffee that will make me feel better RIGHT now.

Or maybe, just so I feel something other than this horrific emptiness because the pain is too much to allow in.

This season sucks. Financially, it sucks. The baby just had a birthday a month ago. My middle son turns 5 December 6th. Then Christmas. Then my oldest turns 7 on January 30th. It’s all at once, it all sucks, and I’m just…

It’s not about money. Money comes and goes. It’ll always be a stressor. For everyone.

But it does make the fact that I’m self sabotaging extremely obvious.

I can’t fix anything.

But I can make it worse.

And if it gets worse, maybe I feel worse. And if I feel worse, maybe something changes. Or…I don’t know.

I really don’t know.

Step 1…recognize the problem. Okay, I’ve done that.

I don’t know what comes next. Things are hard. And I want to feel better. I don’t know how to feel better, and all I feel is stuck.

I try to drink less, I end up drinking more.

It’s just all so much.

For as broken as I feel, I’m doing very little talking. Or reaching out. Or opening up.

I’m very shut down, and I’m very…nothing.

I’m survival mode.

And I guess my survival mode looks a little bit like self sabotaging.

Because if you can’t make things better…I don’t know. Might as well feel good in the moment.