My former massage therapist once told me that she grew up with therapists for parents. Her parents were clear on raising the children free from suppressed emotions. As a result, she turned out to be quite the expressive lady, sometimes bossy, without intending to be so. She told me that she’d asked her husband to take the trash out one evening, but he misjudged her tone of voice. Neither did she mean for him to do it right away, nor was it a command. Irritably, he took the trash out. She didn’t ignore it or shake it off, she immediately addressed his upset behaviour, and they talked it out. This is how she was raised.
I thought of her today and realized that she was the last person I spoke to, like a friend in person. Usually, I hate conversations during massages, as I prefer to relax and doze off when I need to, but she was different. It was almost like paying her to be my friend for an hour. This was back in January when I had my last appointment with her. Since then, I don’t feel like I’ve actually met with a friend. I’ve written to plenty, which is how I express myself the best, but you can’t see how your friend is processing your message as they read it.
Today, I miss my friends.
I almost want to google how Chinese therapists work. Knowing the Chinese mentality, they don’t talk problems out. When you argue with friends or family, it’s less likely they apologize to each other. It’s a simple fact of “time will heal all wounds.” Eventually, you talk again as though nothing happened.
Well, this is how I grew up.
So I often encounter accusations, condemnations for the way I am during and after disputes—passive. It’s always been like that; I can’t change it, and no therapist could either. And yet some loved ones don’t know you well enough and continuously challenge you to speak up, “Say something!” before they go even more mental at you.
I’m so tired of it.
Yet trying so hard to figure out what I should do, prioritize, think.
The truth is, I don’t know anything. When you’re trapped within yourself, the best thing to do is find some time and space to yourself and not feel guilty and neglectful when you take time off. But I haven’t had that time and space in years. Sometimes I feel like I’m growing into a different person–someone weaker than I used to be. But love and relationships have always made me weak.
I use meditation to stop it from happening, but nine minutes a day isn’t enough.
I should at least find a new massage therapist and ask them how they were raised.
I’ve also been keeping a digital period journal for a few months to track PMS pre and post-IUD.
I can’t believe I went through that hassle, which brought me nothing but discomfort, cramps, headaches, and severe mood swings.
There was a reason why I’d stopped the pill before that.
Hormones can make you want to kill. Tracking my period is supposed to help me control myself. When you’re not alone, but people depend on your mood, you have to identify what your hormones are doing to you. Then take a PMS relief pill, CBD and skip the morning coffee until your period starts.
And then he complains about having to use a condom.
You’re working hard…on stifling yourself.
