“How has your mood been in the last two weeks?”

“I feel like I am spinning out of control… like I’ve fallen off the wagon and not just hit rock bottom, but started to dig. I feel like yes, I am in this hole. This is where I want to be for now. I’ve been overeating, overdrinking, overeverything the last few days. I gave myself a limit. I said, ‘Ok, you can have this weekend. Do whatever you want, however much of it you want, but on Monday, it all comes to an end and your carriage turns back into a pumpkin.'”

“What do you think fueled that binge?” she asked.

“Anger,” I said. “So much anger that I’ve been holding in these last few weeks. And frustration.”

“When your binge came to an end, how did you feel?” she asked.

“Awful,” I said. “Worse because now I have to recover from the binge.”

Therapy is such a taboo subject. It’s often assumed that if you’re seeing a therapist, you’re probably dealing with some serious mental health issues. Sometimes it’s not though. Sometimes it’s just about applying rational thinking to actions.

I openly talk about going to a therapist. I don’t flaunt it, but I don’t hide it either. I’ve learned so much from it because it brings a level of awareness to my actions that I wouldn’t otherwise be able to address. I’ve always believed that enlightenment is the first step to making things better.

If I’m having an off week, like I have been lately, one of the first things we always look at is where in my life am I lacking? Or what am I getting too much of? What is causing me stress?

Last week, I went for a walk in the middle of the day for the first time in weeks. My view from the park bench was much different from what I remembered. The trees were full of leaves now, bringing shade to the benches below. The park fountains were bubbling. This was a much different park from what I remembered and it reminded me that I’ve been so far off the path.

I think I’ve removed the source of the stress, now it’s just a matter of returning the balance.

A few days ago I wrote about the funk I was in. I knew the source of it and I decided to confront that source this week. Despite breaking up several months ago, my ex had slithered his way back into my daily life with texts and calls. And although I kept him at somewhat of a distance, never making it public (until now) and never allowing him around my friends and family, I had allowed him back into my heart just a little.

See I am cautiously optimistic. I believe people can change. How could I not, considering I’m trying to make significant life changes as well. I didn’t want to hold a grudge just yet. After all, he said he said he had stopped drinking, or at least reduced it down to just once a week. Over the course of a few weeks, he began to drink more and more again and occasionally he would try to hide it.

Last week, my emotions came to a head and I lost my shit. I had been neglecting what was important to me and really hating myself for breaking promises left and right. I resented him.

Saturday we were supposed to have a talk. What I had expected would be a back and forth dialogue, a conversation of sorts, turned out to be the exact opposite. It ended up being a drive by shooting (metaphorically speaking), in which he conveniently scheduled things both before and after. He didn’t consider my feelings. He didn’t think to himself, “She needs me. I should be there for her.” He didn’t even give me a chance to talk or to ask questions. He made his appearance, put on his show, and then he left.

The funny thing is things went almost EXACTLY like they did back in October the last time we had a “talk” like this.

Except this time afterwards I wasn’t upset and wondering what just happened, but I was amused at how I could be reliving the same moment all over again despite my efforts to change it.

That’s when I realized it was just the same pattern and it was symbolic of how we were and how we would always be.